


Honor Bound

by penwarrior11



Series: The Dragonblood Saga [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 10:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 59,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3246278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penwarrior11/pseuds/penwarrior11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mara Fides thought she’d spend the rest of her life in prison. Instead she finds herself on a quest to find and protect the only living heir of the Septim bloodline. As the Gates of Oblivion open and the Third Era comes to an end, the fate of the Empire rests with this one woman and a man who wasn’t quite what she’d expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has been modified from its original version.

The dungeons of the Imperial Prison were cold, dank, and dark. The only light came into my cell either through a small, barred window set high in the wall or from the flickering torches that spluttered feebly in the hall outside. No sound reached my ears except for the faint drip of water and the crackle of the torches, disturbing the stifling silence that cloaked the place. It was in that tiny cell that I spent my first night in Cyrodiil. I rested with my knees pulled into my chest and my head bowed forward. I'd been like that since they'd locked me in hours before. Sleep hadn't come. After all that I'd done, I'd started to think that maybe I didn't deserve any peace.

Time passed and my thirst finally overcame my stupor. I reached up to the table beside me, took the pitcher and cup that had been placed there, and poured myself some water. It was cool and soothing as it passed my parched lips. I allowed myself enough relief to feel that.

"Hey! Hey, you!"

I paused and lowered the cup. Was someone talking to me? I looked around for the source of the voice.

Whoever it was must have somehow gotten a glimpse of me, because the voice rasped again, "Ooh, aren't you a fair lass?"

I got shakily to my feet and padded toward the cell door, brushing my long, red hair back over my shoulder as I did. Once there, I caught a glimpse of my fellow prisoner from between the iron bars. He was Dunmeri, with dark gray-blue skin and long, matted silver hair. He leered at me, his long fingers curled around the bars of his cell door. I saw his red eyes flash in the torchlight.

"Your skin is so pale, so pure. Let me guess; a Nord, right?"

"Imperial," I corrected him in a low voice.

The fool cupped a hand to one of his pointed ears and shouted, "What did you say? Speak up."

I hurled the cup at the door. It clattered as it hit the bars and rolled away across the cell floor. "I'm an Imperial, you n'wah!"

I don't think he knew what to make of that at first. His angled brows rose in surprise at my outburst. Maybe it was the Dunmeri curse that threw him off. He quickly shook it off with a grin and cackled, "An Imperial in an Imperial prison. I guess they don't play favorites, huh? Your own kinsmen think you're a piece of human trash. How sad. I bet the guards give you special treatment before the end. Oh, that's right. You're going to die in here, Imperial. You're going to  _die!_  Imperial criminal scum like you give the Empire a bad name, you see. You're an embarrassment. Best if you just… disappeared."

I turned away from him with a low snarl. I didn't want to throw anything else, not that there was much else in there to actually throw. And what good what that do? I silently prayed to the Divines that I'd have the strength to outlast this torment. It was bad enough prospect that I was going to spend the rest of my life locked away down there. Now I would have to deal with that fool for what was left of it. I slid into the corner furthest away from the door. He wouldn't be able to see me there. I thought that maybe he'd eventually get tired of taunting me if he couldn't see my reaction. I'd rather have wasted away in silence than listened to another word from his damned mouth.

After a while I heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hall toward us. The Dunmer said something else, but I ignored him that time. It was probably something about the guards coming to get me. By then, I'd have been grateful if they had. But he was wrong, and I wasn't so lucky.

"Baurus, lock that door behind us." It was a woman speaking. She certainly sounded like a guard. I thought for a few moments that the son-of-a-guar had been right, but then someone else spoke. His words were faint, but clear, and he had an unmistakably commanding tone.

"My sons… they're dead, aren't they?" He asked.

With what I'vebeen through, I've learned to heed first impressions. It's saved me from getting my throat slit on more than one occasion. So I tried to place this man before I even saw him. He wasn't a guard, no. And what prisoner sounded like  _that?_

"We don't know that, Sire. The messenger only said they were attacked."

"No, they're dead. I know it." He sounded weary and resigned. I got to my feet again, curiosity beginning to get the better of me, in time to see four shadows sliding across the floor outside my cell.

"My job right now is to get you to safety," the woman said as she and the others came into view. Three of them wore armor, blocking my view of the last man. She stopped cold when she looked into my cell. "What's this prisoner doing here? This cell is supposed to be off-limits."

One of her armored companions, obviously flustered, said hastily, "Usual mix-up with the watch. I–"

"Never mind," she snapped. "Get that gate open." She looked past the bars at me and her eyes flashed angrily. "Stand back, prisoner. We won't hesitate to kill you if you get in our way."

I slid into the shadows and stayed against the back wall as they the door. I watched, silent but wary, as they filtered into the cell. The first strode across the room to where I stood, planted himself in front of me so that I couldn't pass, and ordered me to stay put. The woman went next, leading an elderly man in purple robes. They were velvet, by the look of them, and ridiculously expensive for wandering around in a dungeon. She was saying to him in a hurried voice, "Let's go. We're not out of this yet."

The old man stopped, despite the woman's protesting, to peer at me through the gloom. There was interest, recognition even, in his blue eyes. Beneath the weariness I saw in them, they were like ice.

"You," he said. "I've seen you. Let me see your face."

I knew what he was seeing when he looked at me: tangled red hair, gray eyes, and a pale face that was all sharp angles or hard edges. Still, a strange sort of tingle crawled up my spine. It was the kind of feeling you get when you know  _something's_  about to happen. Like when your hair stands on end just before lightning strikes. Against my better judgment, I stepped out of the shadows.

"You are the one from my dreams…" He looked away, weary acceptance settling onto his face. "Then the stars were right, and this is the day. Gods give me strength."

"What's going on?" I asked. Not necessarily to him, but to anyone. Somehow I was not just a witness to the whole mess, but a part of it.

He answered me at once. "Assassins attacked my sons, and I'm next. My Blades are leading me out of the city along a secret escape route. By chance, the entrance to that escape route leads through your cell." I didn't know why he trusted me. He  _shouldn't_ have trusted me. But he knew something, I'm sure of it. Or he'd seen something.

I stared at him. "Who are you?"

I heard an angry hiss from one of the three guards. The Blades. He ignored them.

"I am your Emperor, Uriel Septim. By the grace of the gods, I serve Tamriel as her ruler. You are a citizen of Tamriel, and you too shall serve her in your own way."

It was then I knew I was in over my head.

I made some kind of odd spasm which might have been an attempt at a bow as I tried to figure it all out. When I finally found my voice, I asked him, "Why am in here?"

"Perhaps the gods have placed you here so that we may meet." His voice was light, dismissive. "As for what you have done… it does not matter. That is not what you will be remembered for."

It was all far, far too much for me. Look, I'm from a town whose population mostly comprised of the legionnaires stationed in the fort. I've been to cities, too. I lived in Morrowind's capitol for years! But I wasn't someone who'd lived on a grand scale. So when  _the Emperor of all Tamriel_  started talking to me about the fate of the Empire…

"What should I do?"

"You will find your own path. Take care… there will be blood and death before the end."

Well, that was not something I wanted to hear.

"Please, Sire. We must keep moving," the woman said desperately. She pushed something on the cell's far wall and a panel slid away with a flurry of dust and a low grinding sound.

"Better not close this one," she called back as she walked through the doorway. "There's no way to open it from the other side."

The others, including the Emperor, followed her into the tunnel. The last Blade through, a Redguard, chuckled lightly and told me, "Looks like this is your lucky day. Just stay out of our way."

After that, I found myself in a predicament. I could have stayed and listened to that Dunmeri s'wit blather some more. I should have stayed; it would have been easier, though what fool would stay in that cell? With the thought of freedom in mind, I followed them.

Their path wound down through a short tunnel and into a maze of dark, catacomb-like rooms. I stayed a few paces behind. While they noticed me and didn't seem to care too much, I didn't really want to test them.

When they rounded the next corner, I saw them suddenly draw their swords. The leader shouted at me, "Protect the Emperor!" How she expected me to do that, when I clearly had no weapons, is still beyond me. The Emperor, on the other hand, had drawn a silvered sword. He stood behind a pillar, out of sight of the threat. He looked at me with weary eyes.

"Protect yourself," he said.

I watched with him from behind the pillar as the Blades fought a gang of men garbed in black and red armor. The captain fell during the skirmish, her body crumpling with onto a short set of stairs with the loud crash of armor. When the assassins were dead, the Emperor and I crept out from behind the pillar.

"Are you all right, Sire?" One of the Blades asked, rushing past me. "We're clear for now."

While they were preoccupied, I examined the attackers' bodies. It was strange… hadn't they been wearing armor before? All of them were now wearing identical, hooded red robes.

"Captain Renault?"

"She's dead. I'm sorry, Sire, but we have to keep moving."

"How could they be waiting for us here?" The other Blade snapped to no one in particular. He was getting edgier by the minute, his hand clamped firmly around the hilt of his sword.

"Don't know. But it's too late to go back now. Don't worry, Sire, we will get you out of here."

"They won't be the first to underestimate the Blades." The second Blade turned and opened the gate ahead. "I'll take point. Let's move."

The Emperor followed him, closely tailed by the remaining Blade. He turned to me and said firmly, "You stay here, prisoner. Don't try to follow us." The gate was then locked behind him.

I didn't even have time to consider what to do, because a bit of loose wall came crumbling down and several skeevers leapt out at me. I scrambled back and grabbed Renault's sword. It's not like  _she_  needed it anymore. I slashed at the massive, filthy, rat-like things and only managed to get a few scrapes in the process. Once they were all dead, I looked with interest at the hole they had come through. A tunnel lay behind it. A tunnel might have meant a way out. I didn't even hesitate as I ran through.

* * *

 

I wound up in a twisting maze of damp tunnels filled with skeevers and goblins. Thank the Nine, I'd found a bow someone had lost soon after I'd stumbled in there. I was decent with a blade, but if you gave me a bow no one would even stand a chance. I also got my hands on the better part of a set of old leather armor. It was probably made for a man originally, but it fit me well enough for my purposes. The hood, which was a plus, made me wonder if it had belonged to a ranger originally. I thought it would be the perfect disguise if I ever managed to make it out of there.

Stay behind, they'd said. I wasn't going back if they paid me. I was already making plans for where I would go. My first thought was to get out of the province. Skyrim was my first pick. I was born there, although I barely remembered it, and everyone thought I was a Nord anyway. I hated the cold, though.

The tunnels finally gave out and I came out in those catacombs again. Hearing voices ahead, I crept along and stayed close to the wall. Soon I came to a ledge. Below I could see the Emperor and the two remaining Blades.

"What makes you think help will get here before more of those bastards, Glenroy?" I heard one Blade ask the other in an irritated voice. "We need to get the Emperor out of here."

The Emperor stopped. Leaning slightly against the wall for support, he asked the Blade who had spoken, "Baurus, have you seen the prisoner?"

The Blade, Baurus, turned his attention to him. "Do you think she followed us? How could she?"

"I know she did."

The two Blades shared a look before Glenroy stepped forward and said, "Please, sire. We can't stay here. We have to go."

"Not yet." The Emperor waved him off. "Let me rest a moment longer."

They didn't seem like they were going to move out of my way anytime soon. I climbed down from my perch on the ledge. Maybe I could get past them? That hope was quickly dashed when the Emperor, as if sensing my presence, looked right at me and nodded. I swallowed hard.

"Here they come again!"

I spun wildly to see more assassins leap out of a side passage. I slashed at one that managed to sprint past Baurus and Glenroy's defenses. He fell before he could take another step towards the Emperor.

Glenroy finally noticed me. "Damn it, it's that prisoner again! Kill her; she might be working with the assassins." I backed away and he advanced, bloodstained sword raised to strike me down.

"No, she is not one of them. She can help us. She  _must_  help us."

"As you wish, Sire," Glenroy said bitterly after a moment of hesitation. He sheathed his sword and gave me a withering glare.

I barely had time to shoot a glare back before the Emperor beckoned to me, saying, "Come closer. I'd prefer not to have to shout."

He took me aside and told me in a hoarse whisper, "I need your help. Please come with us."

"Your protectors don't seem to want me around."

"They cannot understand why I trust you. They've not seen what I've seen. How can I explain?" He asked, shaking his head. I certainly didn't know. "Listen. You know the Nine? How they guide our fates with an invisible hand?"

I knew. Ma was devoted to them, and so I was devoted to them, for better or worse. It wasn't my place to question them.

"The Nine guide and protect us," I murmured.

He nodded slowly. "I've served the Nine all my days, and I chart my course by the cycles of the heavens. The skies are marked with numberless sparks, each a fire, and every one a sign. I know these stars well, and I wonder… which sign marked your birth?"

I was born in the dead of winter, in the month of Morning Star. "I was born under the sign of the Ritual." The Mage's Eye, we called it. Ma thought it meant I would follow her path and be a healer. Da never wanted me to be a mage. That was for the best, though. I never liked magic much either.

"The signs I read show the end of my path. My death, a necessary end, will come when it will come."

"What about me?"

"Your stars are not mine. Today the Ritual shall speed you on your star-patterned path."

In a hushed voice, and almost afraid to say it, I asked him, "Aren't you afraid to die?"

Death. Death was something I was terrified of.

He sighed. "No trophies of my triumphs precede me. But I have lived well, and my ghost shall rest easy. Men are but flesh and blood. They know their doom, but not the hour. In this I am blessed to see the hour of my death… to face my apportioned fate, then fall."

"Can you see my fate?"

"My dreams grant me no opinion of success. Their compass ventures not beyond the doors of death." His voice was grim, though he regarded me with some curiosity. "But in your face, I behold the sun's companion. The dawn of Akatosh's bright glory may banish the coming darkness. With such hope, and with the promise of your aid, my heart must be satisfied."

What he was asking of me was dangerous. Impossible. But, see, I have two rules in life: never oppose the Nine, and never oppose the Empire. Da always said the Emperor  _is_  the Empire. His sons were dead, which made him the last member of the Septim line. Habasi always said, in her special Khajiiti way, that everything I did smelled too much of legionnaire loyalty. Devoted to a fault. I blame Da for that. He was in the Legion.

I took a deep breath and nodded before asking, "So, where are we going?"

"I go to my grave. A tongue shriller than all the music calls me. You shall follow me yet for a while, then we must part."

He turned and continued on. I tried to follow, but was quickly stopped by Baurus, who held out his lit torch to me.

"You may as well make yourself useful. Here, carry this torch and stick close."

I pushed it away. "If you want me to be useful, that won't help. I'll stick to the shadows, thanks."

The Redguard blinked before letting out a soft laugh and nodding his helmeted head. "Fine. Just let us do our jobs and you'll be all right."

We went on, through more of those winding, eerie passages lined with old white marble. More assassins attacked, but again we prevailed. I soon started to get tired of it. Then, for a few minutes, it was quiet.

"I don't like this," Glenroy said. "Let me take a look."

He scouted ahead while the three of us hung back, waiting.

"Looks clear."

As we pushed on, he mentioned something about the sewers. I wasn't really paying attention to him; I was too busy watching for more assassins. He led us to a gate. For an instant, he froze. Once he seemed to regain focus, he drew his sword.

"Damn it! The gate is barred from the other side. A trap!"

Baurus and I both readied our weapons.

"What about that side passage back there?"

"Worth a try. Let's go!"

I hurried in past them and my heart sunk as I looked around. It was a dead end. We  _were_  trapped.

"What's your call?" Baurus asked, quickly noticing what I had.

"I don't know. I don't see any good options here," Glenroy said. From the hall we'd just left, I heard the sound of approaching footfalls. He turned at the noise. "They're behind us! Wait here, sire."

Baurus told me before he rushed from the room after Glenroy, "Wait here with the Emperor. Guard him with your life."

Outside I could hear the loud sound of metal clashing against metal. Then a cry of pain. Glenroy's? I felt a hand on my shoulder and I turned, heart racing with fear.

"I can go no further." The Emperor's voice was rushed and desperate. "You alone must stand against the Prince of Destruction and his mortal servants. He must not have the Amulet of Kings!" He unclasped the blood-red pendant that hung around his neck and held it out to me. "Take the Amulet."

I couldn't. It wasn't right.

"No, you can't trust me with this! You don't know what I've done!" I cried.

He forced it into my hands, saying, "There is no time. Give it to Jauffre. He alone knows where to find my last son."

"Sire, you can't–"

"Find him, and close shut the jaws of Oblivion."

A doorway materialized behind the Emperor. Before I could move, before I could shout a warning, an assassin had sprung from the shadows and cut him down. Then he turned on me, his eyes fixed on the Amulet. I heard a low chuckle emanate from behind his mask.

"Stranger, you chose a bad day to take up with the cause of the Septims," he said before he sent his mace crashing towards me.


	2. Amulet

I backed up, barely getting my sword up in time to block the assassin's strike. He was stronger than me. If he'd had the chance, I'd have already been dead, but he was just a bit too slow. As he raised his mace to strike again, I slashed his unarmored stomach open with a single swipe. I hastily jumped back to avoid the resulting gore. The man crumpled to the ground, dead at my feet.

I stood there, shaking all over, not sure whether my knees would hold out or if I'd collapse from the strain of it all. Heavy footsteps crashed over the stones of the floor and echoed up into the ceiling as Baurus stumbled back in. His armor was covered in blood, and I wasn't sure how much of it was his. Some of it was even smeared across his dark face, beneath his helmet. His eyes swung wildly from me, to the dead assassin, to the Emperor's body. He sunk to his knees, his armor letting out a metallic  _clank_ as it made contact with the floor.

"No… Talos save us…" He groaned. I saw him reach out to the old man before his gauntlet clenched into an angry fist.

"Sir?" I asked quietly.

"We've failed.  _I've_ failed… The Blades are sworn to protect the Emperor, and now he and all his heirs are dead…" Then he stiffened. "The Amulet, where's the Amulet of Kings?" He jumped to his feet, obviously panicked at its absence. "It's not on the Emperor's body."

For the first time, I remembered the pendant I held in my hands. I looked at it, staring into the cut surface of the blood-red jewel. "The Emperor, he… he gave it to  _me_." I held it out, showing it to the shocked Blade.

"Strange," he murmured. "He saw something in you. Trusted you."

"I wish I knew why…" I said, mostly to myself. I was a prisoner that just  _happened_ to be in his path, and suddenly he trusted me with the fate of the Empire? Why? I was nothing more than a no-good thief. Not even that anymore. I was no one.

"They say it's the Dragon Blood that flows through the veins of every Septim. They see more than lesser men." Indicating the amulet, he said, "The Amulet of Kings is a sacred symbol of the Empire. Most people think of the Red Dragon Crown, but that's just jewelry. The Amulet has power. Only a true heir of the Blood can wear it, they say. He must have given it to you for a reason. Did he say why?"

I shook my head, trying to remember what the Emperor had told me. "He said I was supposed to take it to someone named Jauffre. I think."

Baurus frowned, clearly puzzled. "Jauffre? He said that? Why?"

"Because… because there's another heir?"

He shrugged. "Nothing I ever heard about, but Jauffre would be the one to know. He's the Grandmaster of my Order." He paused at that and, with a chuckled, added, "Although you may not think so to meet him. He lives quietly as a monk at Weynon Priory, near the city of Chorrol."

"How do I get there?"

"First you need to get out of here. Through that door must be the entrance to the sewers, past the locked gate. That's where we were heading. It's a secret way out of the city. Or it was  _supposed_  to be secret," he amended ruefully. "Here. You'll need this key for the last door into the sewers."

"The sewers?" I asked after taking the key he offered, peering past him at the dark hole in the wall.

"There are rats and goblins down there… but from what I've seen of you, you were a forester. Am I right?"

I looked at him askance. "What makes you say that?"

"The way you fight. You've got some Legion training."

I couldn't help the bitter chuckle that escaped me. "Yes, I was trained by someone in the Legion, but that was a  _long_ time ago. I'm not one of them."

"Well, if anyone can handle it, I'd say it's you."

I shook my head. The sooner all of it was over with, the better.

"After the sewers, then what?"

"You must get the Amulet to Jauffre. Take no chances, but proceed to Weynon Priory immediately. Got it?"

I stuffed the Amulet in my pocket. "Yes, but… this is all so…"

"Easy," he said. "You'll be fine. No one's more surprised that me that I'm sending a prisoner off with the Amulet of Kings. But the Emperor trusted you for a reason, and I trust the Emperor."

I nodded slowly. "And what about you? What will you do?"

"I'll stay here to guard the Emperor's body and make sure no one follows you. You'd better get moving. May Talos guide you."

I started for the door. I'd barely taken two steps when I stopped and turned back. Unstrapping the sword from my hip, I held it out to Baurus. "Here, this was Renault's. I thought you'd want to have it back."

He took it from me. "Thank you. I'll see that it is given a place of honor in the halls of the Blades."

I turned away from the mourning Blade and climbed through the hole in the wall to face whatever lay beyond.

* * *

 

For some time, I was worried that the sewers were never going to end. They just seemed to keep going; endless, winding tunnels full of goblins and skeevers. Tantalizing glimpses of sky were visible out of grates in the ceiling high above my head. But then I saw a round, low-ceilinged tunnel ahead. At its end was a barred gate, and past that… light. Sunlight. I let out a relieved, strangled sound that might have passed for a laugh. I ran forward, my boots slapping over the wet stone ground. I grabbed the rusted handle, wrenched it back, pulled the gate open, and stumbled out.

I blinked in the suddenly bright light as I stepped out of the tunnel. Shielding my eyes with my hand, I gazed out at my surroundings. The tunnel was built into the side of a hill overlooking a wide lake. Lake Rumare, probably, which meant I was still somewhere on the City Isle. Early evening sunlight cast long shadows over the grass and the surface of the water. Across the water I could see the gleaming marble arches of a ruin and, beyond that, rolling hills that were covered in trees. I hadn't had a chance to see the Heartlands of Cyrodiil in daylight; it had been night when I'd arrived in the city. It was so… different than Morrowind. The absence of the giant mushrooms was honestly a bit strange.

I trudged down to the edge of the lake. As I did, a small blue butterfly flitted past my nose. I batted it away impatiently. Kneeling on the bank, I splashed some water on my face to clear off some of the dirt and blood I knew was coated on it. Then I rinsed out my hair. After wringing as much of the water out of it as I could, I tied it all back in a ponytail to keep it out of my face.

Night was falling fast, and I wanted to be under cover as quickly as possible. The city was my best bet, so I tromped up the hill toward the gate. I hadn't even made it past the waterfront when I was arrested, so I had no idea where I was going. By the time I reached the gate, the sun had set below the city's high stone walls. The sky high above me was a deep, burning orange and the cobbled road was bathed in dark blue shadows. The guard that let me in eyed me suspiciously. Guards always made me a little skittish, even after several years out of the business.

Trying not to shake, I gave him my best sheepish smile. "Sorry to bother you, but I need to get someplace, and I don't…"

"Not from around here?" He asked. I shook my head. "What are you looking for?"

"Somewhere to sleep for the night. I'm off in the morning."

"Well, the closest place is the Merchant's Inn. It's just down the street and to the left."

"Thank you so much."

He nodded and went back to his post. "Stay safe, citizen. These are dark times."

I felt the Amulet, heavy in my pocket.

" _Don't I know it…_?" I murmured as I walked away.

True to his word, I found the Merchant's Inn exactly where he said it would be. I walked up the front steps and into the inn, feeling more than a little out of place in my musty armor. Luckily, it was nearly empty. The man behind the counter gave me a quizzical look as I walked up, but otherwise said nothing.

"How much for a bed for the night?" I asked.

"Twenty Septims."

It wasn't cheap by any standard and I felt myself cringe a bit as I pulled the drakes out of my pocket. All I could hope was for some kind of compensation after I delivered the Amulet.

The man took the gold I handed to him and gave me a key in return, saying, "It's up the stairs there, first door on your left. Sleep well."

I followed his instructions, climbing the stairs at the back of the inn and going through the door to my room. It was bigger than most I'd seen in Morrowind, certainly bigger than most of the one's  _I'd_ lived in, but I expected that from this city. I stripped out of my armor and dumped my weapons in the chair, keeping my knife with me. Then, sitting down on the bed, I pulled out the amulet and studied it. To be honest, it was a gaudy thing. The red diamond set into the gold was as long as my palm. Eight smaller stones in various colors surrounded the larger gem. I frowned and turned it over in my hands. What was so special about  _this_  particular amulet that made it so powerful? I considered putting it around my neck, just to see what would happen, but thought better of it.

Still holding it tightly, I snuffed out the candle and went to sleep.

* * *

 

When I stepped out of the inn in the morning, it was raining. I swore under my breath and tugged my hood up to shield my head from the drops. Wasn't that just my luck? I was beginning to wonder if the gods hated me. I'd certainly done enough in the past to warrant it.

I spent some time in the shops around the Market District, getting what supplies I could with the meager drakes I'd managed to scavenge from the catacombs. The coins turned out to be enough, barely, and the rain finally settled by the time I was finished.

When I left the Imperial City, I took the bridge leading away from the City Isle, passed the town on the other side, and headed north. There were a few lone farms near the road, along with the crumbling remains of old ruins. Abandoned forts, by the look of them. The old stone walls had totally fallen down in some places. Where they were still standing, they were covered in grasses or tangled ivy. In the distance, I spotted what I thought might be deer roaming in the ruins. Even though I couldn't see any obvious threats, a feeling of unease still crept through me. I drew my bow and kept an arrow on the bowstring, just in case my intuition turned out to be correct.

As I passed beneath a stone archway, I heard a nearby voice purr, "Hand over all your gold and things may not get… ugly."

My gaze snapped to the right to see a Khajiit walking toward me from the bushes alongside the road. He was dressed in tattered clothes and mismatched armor. There were a number of braids in his straw-colored mane. In one of his clawed hands he brandished a dagger.

"Oh sweet Divines, you have  _got_  to be kidding me," I groaned.

He hissed. "I will gut you, stupid woman!"

When I fired my arrow at him, he dodged the shot. He swiped at me with his dagger and I caught his wrist, stopping the blow. Yanking an arrow out of my quiver, I jammed it into his neck. I quickly ripped it out and blood poured from the open wound. The bandit staggered toward me and I took a step back to stay out of his reach. He let out a gurgling sound as he sank to his knees and tried to stem the flow of blood.

"Dark… moons… upon…"

"Shut up," I snapped.

He fell forward after that, his body going slack. His tail twitched once. I saw his yellow eyes go glassy.

Once I was sure he was dead, I knelt down and took the purse from his belt. To my satisfaction, I saw that there was more in there than I'd gotten from the catacombs and sewers. There were also lockpicks, which I tucked away in the base of my ponytail. With that done, I dragged the body off the road. I straightened with a sigh and looked down the road ahead.

It was going to be a long walk.

* * *

 

It took me nearly a week to reach Weynon Priory. The ruin-dotted hills eventually gave way to dense woods. The trees made my skin crawl uncomfortably. The closest thing I remembered like that in Morrowind was the swamps of the Bitter Coast, and they could easily be deadly. Everything in the woods was hushed and closed as I walked, save for the echoes of birdsong. At night, I could hear the sound of wolves howling in the distance. I didn't like it at all and was grateful when I finally saw the Priory up the road ahead.

A large house with steepled roofs dominated the Priory. There was also a small separate chapel on the far side of the compound and a well in front of the house. I walked around it, brushing my fingertips over the stones forming its sides, and went up to the front door. After knocking twice, I stepped back and waited. It wasn't long before a man in black robes opened the door and gave me a polite smile.

"Welcome to Weynon Priory," he said, "a monastic retreat dedicated to Talos and the Nine Divines. I'm Prior Maborel, head of our community, and responsible for all secular and religious affairs. How may I help you?"

"I need to speak to Brother Jauffre. Please. It's important."

"Very well. You'll most likely find him in the library." He let me pass by and pointed up a flight of stairs. "It's up there."

"Thank you."

I went upstairs, as Prior Maborel had indicated, and turned right to find the library. At the far end of the room, sitting at a desk and writing something in a large leather-bound notebook, was an old man garbed in plain brown robes. He looked up as I approached and raised one gray brow.

"Brother Jauffre?" I asked.

His gaze was wary, as if he was examining me to see if I was worth his attention. "Yes, I am Brother Jauffre. What do you want?"

"The Emperor sent me to find you."

"Emperor Uriel?" He asked sharply, putting down his quill and closing the book with a  _snap_. "Do you know something about his death?"

"Yes. I was there when he died."

"You'd better explain yourself.  _Now._ "

"He gave me the Amulet of Kings."

"You brought me the Amulet of Kings? This cannot be. Let me see it." I pulled it out of my pocket and handed it to him. He took it carefully, cradling the pendant in his hands. There was a stunned look on his face. "By the Nine, this  _is_ the Amulet of Kings!" He looked up at me, gaze once again calculating. "Who are you? How did you get this? What do you know of the Emperor's death?"

I took a deep breath. "My name is Mara Fides, Father, and I'm no one, really. I crossed the Emperor's path soon before he was killed. Before he died, he gave the Amulet to me and said that I should take it to you. And he said…" I wracked my brains, trying to remember the exact words. "… He said, "Find him, and close shut the jaws of Oblivion.""

Jauffre sighed and set the Amulet down on the desk. "As unlikely as your story sounds, I believe you. Only the strange destiny of Uriel Septim could have brought you to me carrying the Amulet of Kings."

"He mentioned something about the "Prince of Destruction"… who is that, exactly?"

"The Prince of Destruction he referred to is none other than Mehrunes Dagon, one of the lords of the demonic world of Oblivion," Jauffre told me, his voice grim. "The Emperor's words – "Close shut the Jaws of Oblivion" – certainly suggest that he perceived some threat from Oblivion. But all the scholars agree that the mortal world is protected from the daedra of Oblivion by magical barriers."

"Then how can the daedra threaten us?"

"I'm not sure. Only the Emperors truly understand the meaning behind the rituals of coronation. The Amulet of Kings is ancient; Saint Alessia herself received it from the gods. It is a holy relic of great power. When an Emperor is crowned, he uses the Amulet to light the Dragonfires at the Temple of the One in the Imperial City. With the Emperor dead and no new heir crowned, the Dragonfires will be dark for the first time in centuries. It may be that the Dragonfires protected us from a threat that only the Emperor was aware of."

"There's one more thing," I said hesitantly. "The Emperor asked me to find his last son."

Jauffre clasped his hands on top of the desk. Leaning forward, he said in a quiet, solemn voice, "I am one of the few who know of his existence. Many years ago, I served as captain of Uriel's bodyguards, the Blades. One night, Uriel called me into his private chambers. A baby boy was sleeping in a basket. Uriel told me to deliver him somewhere safe. He never told me anything else about the baby, but I knew it was his son. From time to time he would ask about the child's progress. Now, it seems that this illegitimate son is the heir to the Septim Throne… if he yet lives."

I sighed, knowing I wasn't out of this just yet, and asked, "Where can I find him?"

"His name is Martin. He serves Akatosh in the Chapel in the city of Kvatch, south of here. You must go to Kvatch and find him at once. If the enemy is aware of his existence, as seems likely, he is in terrible danger. And, please, let me know if there's anything you need. My resources here are limited, but I will help in any way I can."

"Do you have any supplies I can take?"

"Yes. I keep a few things here in my chest to resupply traveling Blades." He got up and went over to a chest nestled between two bookcases. I heard the  _click_  of a lock, and he pulled open the lid. "Help yourself to whatever you need."

I knelt down and examined the contents. There was some leather armor that looked like it was in much better shape than the ratty set I wore, a new bow, a quiver of steel-tipped arrows, a map, and a couple of potions that I recognized as medicinal from their smell. Pulling them all out, I found a place to change into my new gear. Jauffre was kind enough to take my old gear before I descended the stairs towards the door of the house.


	3. Kvatch

I arrived in Kvatch just as the sun was setting. From the road I could see the stone walls of the city at the top of the hill. I can't say just how relieved I was to finally be there. More woods, more bandits, I was sick of it all. My relief was, however, short-lived. As I took the road up the hill, an Altmer came pelting down towards me, screaming for me to run.

"Hold on a moment," I said, trying to calm him down enough to figure out what happened. I wasn't too worried yet. High elves are always on about something. "Run? From what?"

He slid to a halt and looked at me like I was mad. "Gods' blood, you don't know, do you? Daedra overran Kvatch last night! There were glowing portals outside the walls! Gates to Oblivion itself."

No, I wasn't worried before, but I was after  _that_. A strangely numb feeling crept through my bones and I only caught snatches of what he said.

"There was a huge creature… something out of a nightmare… came right over the walls… blasting fire. They swarmed around it… killing…"

I told myself that there might still be a chance. There had to be a chance that the Martin I'd been sent to find had made it out. After all, that mer obviously had.

"Come on, the whole city  _can't_  have been destroyed!" I said.

"Go and see for yourself! Kvatch is a smoking ruin! We're all that's left, do you understand me? Everyone else is _dead!_ "

"So how did you escape?" I snapped.

"It was Savlian Matius. Some of the other guards helped us to escape… cut their way out, right through the city gates. Savlian says they can hold the road." He shook his head. "No… no, I don't believe him. If you'd seen it, you'd know… I'm getting out of here before it's too late!" I let out a yelp as he grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. "They'll be here any minute, I'm telling you. Run while you can!"

I instinctively pulled myself out of his grip. Before I could ask whether Martin had gotten out as well, he'd streaked off down the road. I watched him go with an agitated sigh. Damned excitable High elves. I swear they're all like that.

Further up the road I stumbled upon a camp of refugees from the city. They all huddled around the sparse campfires, talking to each other in low voices or asking for news about loved ones. A woman was crying. I heard one man ask bitterly, "How could the Nine let this happen? Are they angry with us?"

They all ignored me as I walked through the camp. After all, what was one more woman with dirty clothes and scratches on her face? There were so few of them, and I didn't see anyone even remotely resembling a priest among them. At the far end of camp was a woman standing away from the others. She stared up the cliff toward where the city was with sad eyes. I hurried over to her. As I approached, she looked at me with surprise.

"Martin. Is Martin here? Where is he?" I asked her.

"If you mean the priest," she said slowly, "I don't think he made it out of the city. Very few of us did. But Savlian Matius might know more. He's in charge of the city guards that are defending the camp."

I thanked her and took off up the hill. As I approached the city, I was surprised to see the sky grow stormy. The clouds turned red, and beyond them I could see bright streaks that boiled like Ashland lava. Lightning flashed overhead. When I reached the top I was greeted with a series of spiked wooden barriers facing the city, defending the road I'd just climbed up. Past them I saw it: the Gate to Oblivion.

I could feel the heat radiating from it even from where I stood. Twin black spikes rose from the earth, the air between them on fire. Sometimes I could see Kvatch's ruined gate through it… and sometimes I could see right into Oblivion itself. Just that sliver was enough to make my heart pound and for shivers to crawl through my body. It was not something mortal eyes were meant to see.

When my shock began to wear off, I climbed past the barriers to help the group of men I saw fighting some of the Daedra that emerged. In a few minutes, all of the Daedra were dead and I was being forcefully dragged back towards the barriers.

"Stay back, civilian!" The man who'd pulled me back, obviously Matius, said. "This is no place for you. Get back to the encampment at once."

I wrestled my way out of his grip and snapped, "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not one of your refugees. What happened here?"

"We lost the damned city, that's what happened!" He stopped, briefly closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before starting again. "It was too much, too fast. We were overwhelmed. Couldn't even get everyone out. There are people still trapped in there. Some made it into the chapel, but others were just… run down in the streets. And now we can't even get back into the city to help them with that damned Oblivion Gate blocking the way."

So there were still people alive inside the city? A bit of hope flared in my chest at that. "Do you know where Brother Martin is?"

"The priest? Last I saw him, he was leading a group towards the Chapel of Akatosh. If he's lucky, he's trapped in there with the rest of them, at least safe for the moment. If he's not…"

I had gone all that way, and for what? Nothing? The Daedra targeted Kvatch solely because Martin was there, I was sure of it. How they'd known, I had no idea, but there was no way I was going to sit back and do nothing while he was trapped in there with those beasts. I looked back over at the Gate. There was a gap between it and the city wall. It was my only chance. I dodged Matius's attempts to stop me and charged through the clearing. He and his men tried to follow, but were held back by another round of daedra from the Gate. I slipped by, unnoticed, into the smoking ruins of Kvatch.

When I climbed over what used to be the city gate, I knew I was in over my head. Rubble and corpses filled the streets and everything burned. The only thing still mostly intact was the chapel. But between it and me were at least a dozen daedra.

Muttering a prayer to the Divines, I ran. Choking on smoke and the smell of burning flesh, I dashed madly across the square. The daedra swarmed toward me, slashing at me with claws, and hurling balls of flame. I ducked and wove, barely dodging the attacks. At the chapel doors I pounded frantically, screaming pleas for entry. It was unbarred and I was pulled in with only moments to spare.

A woman supported me as I tried desperately to breathe. As I slowly regained control over myself, she asked, "What's it like out there? We were beginning to fear we were the only survivors."

I shook my head and gasped, "Captain Matius still has the road, and there are refugees down the hill. Not many, but they'll be all right for now. Is Martin still here? I mean…"

"Brother Martin? Yes, he's right over there." She nodded toward the altar. "He led the group here during the confusion of the attack. We owe him our lives."

She let me go and I pulled down my hood. The inside of the chapel looked like the refugee camp down the hill. A group of haggard-looking people whispered quietly to each other. A few sat in the pews, staring at the ceiling with tear filled eyes. Most of the few children were crying. A blonde woman was speaking to someone in the shadows beside the altar at the other end of the chapel. A man, by the sound of the voice. When she shuffled aside after a few moments, I finally caught a glimpse of him. His eyes caught on me a heartbeat later.

To be honest, I don't know what I was expecting. Probably not  _him_.

My first impression of Martin Septim was that he looked just like his father. They both had the same round jaw, hooked nose… and those eyes, those blue eyes that saw  _everything_. There was no way I could deny it was him.

My second impression was that he was a worrier. I could see it in the lines on his face, the few streaks of gray in his brown hair. I couldn't tell his exact age, but he certainly looked older than he actually was.

I walked over, but before I could say anything he asked me in a harried voice, "Have you brought help? We've been trapped here since the Daedra overran the city."

Help, he'd asked. At that point "help" was still outside the city. My job wasn't to help; my job was to get him, and _only_  him, out of there in one piece. A part of my mind was already trying to work out how exactly I was going to do it. He didn't look like he'd stand much of a chance in a fight. He was a priest, after all.

"You need to come with me, you're in danger."

He scowled, deepening the lines on his face. "Of course I'm in danger. But I'm needed here. I can't leave. I assume you didn't risk your own life to tell me something I already know. Who are you and what do you want?"

"You  _are_  Martin, right? The priest?" I asked, growing desperate. It was him – it had to be him – but I didn't like the thought of the man being the sole heir to the Empire. My chances of success were getting slimmer by the minute.

"Yes, I'm a priest. Do you need a priest? I don't think I'll be much help to you. I'm having trouble understanding the gods right now." He looked away. "If this is all part of a divine plan, I'm not sure I want anything to do with it." He turned, his shoulders hunching slightly as if to protect himself, and walked away into the shadows at the back of the chapel. My jaw nearly dropped.

And Habasi called  _me_  bitter.

"Look, plan or not, we need your help," I said, following him. He turned back to face me as I caught up to him again, his expression one of skepticism.

"If you came to me for help, you're more of a fool than you look." Lowering his voice to an almost anguished whisper, he told me, "Look around, what good is a priest?"

My face flushed with anger. He was what I came all that way for? Waded through the throngs of daedra for? A bitter, world-weary priest who showed no signs, none at all, of cooperating with me?

"You are Uriel Septim's son," I snapped.

His eyebrows shot up. "Emperor Uriel Septim? You think the Emperor is my father? No, you must have the wrong man. I am a priest of Akatosh. My father was a farmer…"

"The Daedra came here for  _you_."

Gods forgive me, but I felt a vindictive kind of pride when I saw him recoil at that. For all his denial, I could still see the shadowy seed of doubt in his eyes.

"An entire city destroyed to get at  _me?_  Why? Because I'm the Emperor's son?"

I scoffed. "Why would I lie to you?"

"I don't know. It's strange… I think you might be telling the truth. What does this mean? What do you want from me?"

Finally I was getting somewhere. "Come with me to Weynon Priory. Jauffre will explain. He knows more than I do. Please, there isn't time…"

"No. I'm sorry, but even if what you say is true I won't abandon these people to their fate. I'll go with you when we can all leave here together."

"Didn't you hear me? The Daedra can only be kept out for so long," I said, indicating the chapel doors. "I swear I'm not lying to you."

"It isn't that I don't believe you, but I won't go until I know everyone can leave here safely. We've been through too much together already to abandon them."

I kept protesting, trying to get him to see reason, but he still refused. Eventually I stormed back through the chapel, tugging my hood back up over my head and drawing my sword, muttering about the bleeding-hearted fetcher the whole way. I went back through the Daedra again and out of Kvatch. Any that crossed me probably wished it'd never set foot outside of Oblivion.

When I finally made it out of the city, I walked back towards the barricades. Captain Matius, when he caught sight of me, looked absolutely livid.

"I thought I told you to go back down with the others!" He roared at me.

After what happened in the chapel, I was  _not_  in the mood to play around anymore. I had a job to do. So I shouted back, just as angry, "I've had enough of this! What can I do to get those people out of there before the daedra kill them all?"

"You want to help? You're kidding, right?" I glared at him, and he backed off. "If you're serious, maybe I can put you to use. It'll likely mean your death though. Are you sure?"

"Would I still be here if I wasn't?"

"While that infernal Gate still stands, I don't dare leave the camp undefended. Are you willing to try and close it?"

He was asking me to close the Gate, the Gate that went straight into the unholy realms of Oblivion and gods-knew-what-else. I was going to refuse. I wasn't a fighter! But then the thought hit me that, if there were no more Gate, the path out would be clear. Martin wouldn't have to fight. And, if needed, I could knock him out and drag him along with me.

"Fine. I'll do it."

"Good." He looked a little relieved, probably because he was sending someone unimportant on the suicide mission. "I don't know how to close this Gate, but it must be possible, because the enemy closed the ones opened during the initial attack. You can see the marks on the ground where they were, with the Great Gate right in the middle." He pointed out the scorched lines on the dirt.

"Am I the first to go in there?" I asked him. He shook his head.

"No. I sent some of my men into the Gate, to see if they could find a way to shut it. They haven't come back. If you can get in there, find out what happened to them. If they're alive, help them finish the job. If not, see what you can do on your own. The best I can say is good luck. If you make it back alive, we'll be waiting for you."

When I walked out to the Gate, I walked alone. Matius and his men stayed back in relative safety behind the barriers. I didn't look back. I was sure that, if I did, I'd lose my nerve. Instead I charged straight at it, picking up speed as I crossed the distance. Then I could feel its blazing heat upon me as I ran headlong into it. The fires engulfed me. I closed my eyes…

… Only to open them in the most gods-forsaken place I'd ever laid eyes on. Lava bubbled in rivers all around. The ground, what little there was, was cracked and drier than old bones. Starved, rust-red plants reached hungrily towards me. In the distance I saw a cluster of imposing black towers.

I only had moments to adjust before I saw something moving ahead. Dropping into a crouch, I readied an arrow on my bowstring.

A man was backed against the lava, barely fending off a swarm of Daedra. He was bleeding, and even from where I was I could see burns on his arms. I shot one of the creatures that was getting a little too far into his defenses. Another two were dispatched the same way. One spotted me and raced over, its claws poised to attack. I tore its throat open with a dagger. The few who remained fled. Once they were long gone, I hurried over to the man. Now that I was closer, I could see the wolf crest of Kvatch on his torn tunic.

He leaned heavily against the wall, his sword arm slack. As I approached, he squinted at me and let out a relieved sigh.

"Thank the Nine," he gasped. "I never thought I'd see another friendly face. The others… taken… they were taken to the tower!"

"It's all right," I told him. "What's going on?"

"Captain Matius sent us in to try and close the gate. We were ambushed, trapped, and picked off. I managed to escape, but the others are strewn across that bridge. They took Menien off to the big tower. You've got to save him! I'm getting out of here."

"Fine. Captain Matius needs your help."

"The Captain is still holding the barricade?" He asked, shocked. "I figured I was the last one left alive. All right. I'll try to get out of here and let the captain know what's going on."

"Go, and Gods be with you."

I watched him run back through the Gate. Then I turned and looked up at the tower. Lightning crackled behind it. I squared my shoulders and marched towards it. There was no turning back now.

* * *

 

My path led me from the lava fields up through a series of interconnected towers and past hordes of daedra. I'd snuck by most of them without confrontation. There were far too many of them, and I didn't really want to die. Finally, I'd made it to the tower the guard had indicated, the one where the man named Menien was supposedly taken to.

At the top, a daedra was growling at a man hunched in a cage. When the daedra slammed his fist against the bars, I shouted, "Hey!"

When he turned with a snarl, my arrow buried itself in his eye. His armor clattered loudly against the tower floor when he toppled over, dead. The man in the cage, who had been covering his head, lowered his arms and looked up. When he caught sight of me, he got to his feet.

Reaching out from between the bloodstained bars of his cage, he cried, "Over here! Quickly!"

I hurried over to him. He was garbed only in a pair of ruined, dirty trousers and his whole body was peppered with nasty bruises.

"Are you Menien?" I asked him.

He nodded, but quickly added "That's not important. Listen: you must get to the top of the large tower. The Sigil Keep, they call it. That's what keeps the Oblivion Gate open. Find the Sigil Stone. Remove it, and the Gate will close. Hurry! The Keeper has the key – you  _must_ get the key!"

"I'm getting you out of here first."

"Don't worry about me; there's no time," he snapped. "Get moving!"

Shooting the guard one last look, I went over to the Keeper's body. On a chain around his neck was a black key. I took it and hurried back out of the tower to the big one in the middle of the compound. Sure enough, there was a locked door there that the key fit.

Thunder rumbled as I stepped through the doorway. A rocky gray tunnel, better lit than the rest of the towers had been, wound up and out of sight. Nocking another arrow and keeping close to the wall, I continued on.

The tunnel ended with an open doorway leading into a large chamber. Fire roared up in a jet through a massive hole in the floor towards the open sky above. The sound coming from it was nearly deafening. I proceeded cautiously, on the lookout for more daedra. Once I was inside, I could see a platform high above me, with a pair of spiky red stairs leading up to it. I climbed them slowly, leaning lightly against the wall to keep my balance. The steps were slick and had large gaps between them, and I didn't like the thought of falling through them. Halfway up, a robed daedra caught sight of me. Roaring, he rushed down. A spell flared to life in his open palm. I put two arrows in his throat before he could finish casting. He fell from the stairs and dropped out of sight.

At the top, the noise intensified and was accompanied by a strange rushing, humming, grinding sound. I cringed as the sound pounded in my ears. My head spun. But I still pushed forward. I could see my target: a dark, pulsating orb hovering over the fiery jet. Stumbling slightly, I reached the edge of the platform and snatched it out of the air. It was hot to the touch at first, but quickly cooled. Orange flares streaked just beneath its slick black surface.

As I stood there, holding the thing, I wasn't quite sure what to do. Was I supposed to go back through the Gate before it closed? How long would that take? I only had a moment to think, because white fire suddenly shot out from where the Stone had been a second earlier. The whole room bucked violently, and I clutched the stone to my chest to keep from dropping it. Fire engulfed everything before rushing over me. I screamed and covered my face. Then everything faded to white.


	4. Martin

When my vision cleared, I found myself standing in the remains of the Oblivion Gate. Broken bits of it lay all around as if rent by an explosion. I clutched the Stone to my chest, stunned. I'd made it out alive? Menien lay nearby, groaning.

As Matius and his men rushed to meet us, he shouted, "You closed the Gate? I knew you could do it!" Not likely, but he looked absolutely ecstatic all the same. He clapped me on the back when he reached me and I winced. He didn't seem to notice.

"This is our chance to launch a counterattack! I need you to come with us. You've got far more combat experience than these men."

"Sir," I said wearily, "I'm sure every one of them has far more experience than me, but I'll come just the same."

He grinned widely before drawing his sword and roaring, " _For Kvatch!_ "

As one, they ran headlong at the city gate before leaping over it and into the smoke. I followed, bow at the ready.

Inside the city, the daedra swarmed at us in a kind of desperate final stand. Blades hacked left and right as the men shouted out battle cries. I shot several of the daedra down. As we cut our way through, I saw one of Matius's men fall to one of the reptilian kind. I buried an arrow in its eye a moment later, but I was still too late. The man was, thank Talos, our only casualty.

When we were done finishing off the last of the creatures, Matius let out an elated cry. "We wiped the bastards out! It's safe to pull those people out of the chapel. Let's get in there and make sure they're all right."

Inside, Matius immediately went to the woman who'd helped me when I first stumbled in there.

"Report, soldier," he said.

"Sir, we're all that's left," she replied in a rueful voice. "Berich Inian, myself, and these civilians."

"That's it? There's no one else?"

"There were others, sir. But they refused to stay put. We tried to convince them it was dangerous, but they left anyway. I guess they didn't make it."

He nodded. "Very well. The area outside the chapel has been cleared and these people need to be taken to safety. Escort them to the camp south of here at once."

She protested, saying something about wanting to fight. After that I stopped listening and began looking around for Martin. I couldn't find him. My heart plummeted. Surely, he hadn't gone out while the daedra were still…

"Civilians! It's time to go. Let's move out!" The woman shouted from the entrance, abruptly ending my search. After a short scramble while everyone grabbed their things, we left the chapel. Matius and his men stayed behind to make plans for securing the rest of the city. I followed the crowd of refugees and was walking down the steps, trying to figure out  _what_  I was supposed to do, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Turning sharply, I saw it was Martin.

"I wondered if you'd come back," he told me with a wry smile. "I admit, I've had my doubts about your story."

"But I  _did_  come back. That must count for something."

He chuckled softly. "I suppose it does."

"So you'll come with me?"

He was silent for a moment. Then he said, "You destroyed the Oblivion Gate, they say. You gave them hope. You helped drive the daedra back. Yes, I'll follow you to Weynon Priory and hear what Jauffre has to say. Lead on."

We climbed out of the smoldering wreckage of the city and followed the refugees down the hill. In the end, it took longer than I'd have liked to get through the encampment. I waited at the other side, watching him as he went around the camp to check on everyone. I didn't understand, but I hadn't had a place I'd called home in a long time. By the time he made his way over to me and we started down the hill, it had begun to drizzle. Soon it began to rain in earnest. My hood kept most of the water off my head. Martin had no such luck. Regardless, we were both soaked in minutes.

Grumbling, I found a large tree that kept the ground beneath it relatively sheltered and sat down. Martin sat beside me and started wringing the water out of his hair.

I pulled out my map, careful not to drip on it. "It's nearly a two week journey to get from here to Weynon Priory on foot. Sooner, if we cut across the wilderness, but I'll not risk that."

"So what's the plan?" Martin asked.

I traced the route with a forefinger as I explained, "We take the Gold Road, stopping for supplies in Skingrad. Then we'll take the Red Ring Road north around the Imperial City to the Black Road, and from there to Weynon Priory."

He nodded and I rolled the map back up, storing it in its case once more.

"We should get moving," I said. The rain didn't look like it was letting up anytime soon, and I didn't want to waste any more time.

He looked at me. Strands of damp brown hair were plastered to his olive-toned face.

"I think you should rest. It was a long night for everyone. You especially, from what I heard."

"I'm  _fine_ ," I scoffed. "The most important thing right now is getting you to Jauffre in one piece."

"Which isn't going to happen if you wear yourself out," he pointed out. Peering up at the sky from beneath the thick branched, he continued, "Besides, it's probably best if we don't travel in  _that_."

I glared at him. Damn it, he was right. I knew he was right. And that was the problem. Sighing, I leaned back my head and closed my eyes.

* * *

 

By the time I woke, the rain had stopped and it was already well into the afternoon. I wanted to get as much walking in as I could before sundown, so we quickly started down the road. Though he walked just behind me, Martin was quiet the whole time, and I had to look back every few minutes to check if he was still there. He always was, but it was unnerving. It was almost like having an annoying itch. The whole first day passed like this, and well into the second.

Then, around midday, I heard a sound. A rustling noise, off to the side of the road. I stopped, and Martin did too.

"What is it?" He asked.

"I heard something. Wait here, I'm going to check it out." He started to follow and I hissed, " _Stay here!_ "

I slunk off through the grass, bow drawn. I didn't see anything but a deer bounding off into the distance. Frustrated, I lowered my bow. I was about to go back when something hit me from behind. I cried out as I went down, thudding heavily on my side, my bow flying out of my reach. Before I could react, someone grabbed me by my hair and yanked my head back. Eyes watering, I stared up at the fur-clad Redguard grinning down at me.

"I'm sure you've got some money, huh?" She brought a knife to my throat. "Let's see what I can make off of you."

I was sure I was going to die. It was my fault for being so netch-brained and letting down my guard. But then there was an explosion and the bandit collapsed. I dropped back to the dirt, my scalp and left shoulder burning. I sat up slowly, wincing and clutching my head. Looking up, I saw Martin frowning down at me.

"I thought I told you to stay on the road!" I shouted at him.

"If I had, you would have died." He tried to help me up, but I pushed him away.

"I could have handled it myself." I stood shakily and grabbed my bow. "Let's keep going."

Martin grabbed my arm. "You've been hit."

"I'm fine."

"No you're not. If you don't get that arrow out, it will fester."

I looked and, sure enough, it had been an arrow I'd been hit with. No wonder my shoulder hurt so badly. But when I reached to pull it out, Martin stopped me again.

"Let me do it." He said.

I relented and he made me sit back down while he pulled the arrow from my arm. I gritted my teeth to keep from hissing in pain as it tugged against my flesh. He noticed.

"Don't stop," I hissed. "Just get it over with."

When he'd finally gotten it out, I insisted on taking it. It was still usable, and there was no sense in wasting it.

As he magically healed the wound, he asked, "You're one of Jauffre's fighters?"

I snorted. "A fighter? No. I shouldn't even be in this mess." Right. I should have been in prison. I was starting to wonder if, as he'd said earlier, there  _was_  a divine plan, and the reason I was in it was to be taught a lesson.

"Why come and find me, then?"

"I've only got two rules; never go against the Empire, and never go against the Nine." I got back up and rolled my shoulder. It was sore, and likely would be for a while, but it felt healed. "You hit both, so now I'm stuck with you."

I stalked back towards the road, not wanting to waste any more time. But I wasn't fast enough to miss the look of dejection on his face.

* * *

 

The sun was setting behind us on the fourth day when we reached Skingrad. I'd been through on my way to Kvatch, so I knew where to go. Immediately after passing the gates, I made my way to the Two Sisters Lodge. I got a room and told Martin to stay put while I went out for supplies.

I got back to the Lodge at later in the evening, just as all the shops were starting to close. When I got to the room's door, it was locked. Good. I'd told him to lock it while I was gone. He'd actually listened to me for once. I knocked.

There was no response.

I tried again. Still nothing.

I picked the lock, grumbling all the while, and opened the door. Martin was in the chair by the window, dozing. I supposed it  _had_  been a long day. He awoke with a start when I walked in.

"I'm back," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Sorry." He blinked and looked at the door with a frown. "I could have sworn I locked that…"

"You did." I dumped my pack in the corner.

"Then how…"

I lifted my hand, wiggling the pick between my index and middle fingers before tucking it back in my ponytail.

"You're a thief," he said, rising from the chair. There was a definite frown on his face now.

"I told you I wasn't a fighter. And it's  _ex_ -thief, by the way. I haven't been one in years."

"I thought you said you didn't go against the Nine."

I faced Martin, crossing my arms. "Look, I've done some things in the past that I'm not proud of. I was young, foolish, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. But that's all behind me now. Got it? End of story."

Something about what I said must have resonated with him, because his expression suddenly changed to something between guilt and remorse. " _That_  I can understand."

"Fine. Now, we still need to get to Weynon Priory. I'd suggest you get some sleep."

I took the chair he vacated. When he started to protest, I raised a hand to cut him off. "No, I don't want to hear it. I'm staying right here."

After that he didn't argue. He took the bed and was soon asleep. I watched out the window for a few minutes, noting the odd looking Bosmer skulking about in the street below. Making a mental note to watch out for that one, I got up and locked the door before returning to my chair.

My last thoughts before succumbing to sleep were of Martin's reaction to what I had said. It intrigued me, to say the least. Perhaps the priest wasn't quite as saintly as he appeared. And maybe, just maybe, I'd find out the story behind _his_  regret.

* * *

 

"Oh, for the love of Talos… would it kill you to try being a  _little_ quiet?"

"It's dead, isn't it?"

"That's not the point!" I pointed an accusing finger at Martin as I snapped, "I could have killed it myself if you hadn't gotten in the way."

"I'm so sorry everyone can't be as  _talented_ as you," he replied, his voice just as sharp.

That kind of conversation was becoming increasingly frequent as we continued down the road. An imp had popped up, crawling out of the bushes some way down. Normally, I'd have shot the thing and had done with it. But no. I swear that man couldn't sneak if his life depended on it… which it usually did. I swore Martin was going to drive me straight to Sheogorath. If the fate of the Empire hadn't depended on him, I'd have dumped him on the side of the road and not looked back. Instead I settled for grumbling about him under my breath.

It continued on like that for the rest of the day, and the next. Then the sky opened up, pouring rain drenching us to the skin.

" _Are you kidding me?_ " I shouted at the sky.

Martin put a hand on my shoulder. "We must find shelter."

I squinted through the falling sheets of water, trying to see anything that might work. Down the road, in the side of a hill, was…

"Is that a cave?" I asked, pointing.

"It looks like it. Let's go."

We stumbled into the tunnel. My boots crunched over the dirt and stones that covered the ground. At the end, it opened up in a large chamber. Water dripped from the ceiling, illuminated in some spots by some kind of glowing crystals. A set of twisting chasms cut into the ground, cutting the small section by the entrance off from the rest of the cave. Ahead, I could see what looked like a small, deserted campsite. I didn't think that it had  _just_  been abandoned. Sure enough, I thought I could hear the shriek of imps in the distance, and I thought I saw one flapping around in the shadows at the back of the cave.

"Wait here, I'm going to see if I can clear out some of the imps. If I'm not back soon…" I looked at him and shook my head. "Just wait here."

Taking a running leap, I jumped the thinnest part of the chasm and landed on the other side. Nodding back at Martin, I drew my bow and crept through the cave.

For some time, things were relatively quiet. Up top there was only the one imp that I'd noticed, and it never saw the arrow shot it with coming. Near the back of the cave, however, was a tunnel leading further in. Maybe down into the chasm? I slunk down it, keeping an arrow at the ready, and my back to the wall. The tunnel ended in another chamber, this one much smaller than the one above. There was a bedroll in the middle. A corpse lay on top of it. How old it was, I couldn't tell. Kneeling down, I pulled the purse out of its boney grip. I put the few drakes I found inside into my own purse.

"What happened to you?" I murmured. I doubted that a single imp could do  _that_  much damage. There were numerous claw marks on the bones themselves, more than a one imp could easily make. That could only mean that there were more somewhere in that cave.

I got to my feet just as a loud shrieking sound came up a dark hole that I hadn't seen before and I barely had time to draw my sword before they came at me. It was a blur of claws and teeth and flapping wings. I slashed blindly into the swarm, and they slashed right back. Gashes opened up all over my face and arms. I screamed and kicked one of them in the face before dashing back off the way I'd come. Behind me, I heard their talons scratching against the walls and the frenzied beating of their wings. Sparks flashed over my head and I ducked to avoid being hit. Emerging from the mouth of the tunnel, I turned to face the remainder of them. There were fewer than I'd thought, only five left, and one was already injured. I cut it down first before dispatching the others. Once I was finished, I kicked the remains down the tunnel.

I stood there for a minute, trying to catch my breath. I touched my face, wincing as I felt the deep scratches there. Pulling a rag out of my pocket, I cleaned off my sword. Then I sheathed it and walked back towards the entrance of the cave. When I was once again safely on the other side of the chasm, Martin hurried over to me.

"By the Nine," he gasped, his eyes taking in my ravaged face. "What happened?"

"Imps. A  _lot_ of them." I sat down on one of the bedrolls and started to assess the damage on my arms. It could have been worse; the leather kept some of the blows away from my skin. My face, on the other hand…

Martin sat down beside me. He reached up, cupping my chin in his hand, and looked over the gashes on my face. There was earnest worry in his eyes, which I was almost surprised to see.

He sighed. "How is it that whenever you tell me to wait somewhere you get yourself hurt?"

"It wasn't anything I couldn't handle this time," I said, feeling defensive.

" _This_  time."

I scoffed. "Since when did you care?"

He looked me right in the eye as he said, "We're in this together. If you get yourself killed, then all of this will be for nothing. You have to trust me; I'm not the bumbling fool you seem to think I am."

"When did I say you were?"

"You didn't need to."

I gazed back at him and, for the first time, I noticed that his eyes were not the icy-blue that the Emperor's had been; they were the soft blue of the summer sky. Martin was not what I had been expecting the Emperor's son to be like. Not by a long shot. Not even for a lost heir who had never known who he really was. I still didn't really know what I'd been expecting. Someone strong, someone with power… someone with the conviction to lead a thousand men. I wasn't sure that was the man before me. But he was all that I had and, by the Nine, I was going to make do.

"I should get these healed," he said. I shook my head and pulled away.

"I'll do it."

I placed my palm against my cheek where some of the worst scratches were. Grimacing, I closed my eyes. Through my eyelids I could see the glow of a pale, golden light. I felt the flesh and skin around the cuts knit back together. When it was finished I moved on to work on the others. Soon I realized Martin was staring at me.

"What?"

"I didn't know you could do that," he said hesitantly.

"There's a lot you don't know about me," I whispered, crossing my arms to ward off the cold. I could hear the rain still pouring outside, as well as what sounded like cracks of thunder. Clearly we weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

"You're right. I don't even know your name."

I was shocked to realize that no, he didn't. Not once had it come up. I'd known his, of course, but he'd never asked me mine. And I'd never told him.

"Mara. Mara Fides."

"Mara…" he said slowly, as if considering it. "Like the goddess?"

I shrugged. "My mother's doing. She was a healer, and she wanted me to follow her path. I never wanted that."

"And your father?" He asked.

"He was in the Legion. That's how he and my mother met."

"Ah." He clasped his hands together. "Where are they now?"

"Gone."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

I said nothing else and for a few minutes he remained respectfully quiet.

"I must ask… do you know what happened to the Emperor?" He finally asked.

I nodded. "Yes, I was there."

"Were you?"

I realized that, while Jauffre knew, I hadn't actually told Martin yet. Oh.

"I was the last person to speak to him," I explained. "He used his final moments to tell me to find you." I sighed and looked up at the ceiling of the cave. "I'm not working for Jauffre; he just told me that you were in Kvatch. And it's a mistake I even wound up in this at all. It should be someone else here right now. I was in prison, see, and they put me in the wrong cell. His escape route went right through it. Somehow I wound up here."

"I thought you gave up thievery."

"I  _did_. This was… different. I don't want to talk about it."

"All right. I understand."

He didn't delve any further into my problems. After a few minutes, I realized with shock just how much I'd told him. I shot him a look, suddenly wary. I didn't trust people. Back in the guild, I'd been "Sister Thief" to them. To me, they were "associates." That was it. They weren't my family, they weren't my friends. I'd had a partner, but I'd trusted that damned mer about as much as I trusted a cliff racer. Only Ladia knew much about my past, but that was only because she'd lived in Pelagiad and had known my mother. They didn't know me. Not really.

So how in Talos's holy name did that man, who I'd known for only a few days, manage to get more out of me than people I'd worked with for years? Maybe it was because he was a priest. I'd always been taught by my mother to confide in those who had dedicated their lives to the Nine. But that wasn't it. It was something about  _him_. And that was what was so infuriating. If he had been imperious and arrogant and whatever else, I could have dealt with him. It just would have been a job I had to do. And, until I actually met him, it had been.

But that man,  _that infernal man_ , was thwarting my expectations at every turn. And I wasn't quite sure what to do anymore.


	5. Setbacks

The woods eventually thinned out, leaving us on top of a rise. Out there in the open the wind gusted past and I had to brush back the loose strands of hair it blew into my face. In the distance I could see the White Gold Tower of the Imperial City glittering in the afternoon sunlight. I stood there, gazing out at it.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Martin asked as he walked up to stand beside me.

I glanced over at him and shrugged. "It is."

"You don't sound impressed."

"Not much impresses me."

He smiled a little at that. "All right, then. What about it isn't to your liking?"

"I'm just… not used to this view yet," I admitted. "Everything still looks strange to me."

"How so?"

"It's different from what I'm used to," I said. Before he could respond, I added, "And before you mention snow, I'm not talking about Skyrim, so don't waste your breath."

"I wasn't going to say that. I was just curious about what you  _are_ used to."

So, he didn't think I was a Nord? That was a first. "Fine. Morrowind. Vvardenfell, mostly. Have you ever been there?"

He shook his head.

"Well, it's not the ashy wasteland that everyone expects. Where I lived as a child it was always warm. There were green hills as far as you could see, and mushroom trees everywhere. It was beautiful in its own way." For a moment, I was caught up in the memory. After shaking my head to clear the melancholy from it, I asked him, "What about you? Have you been to the Imperial City before?"

"I was a student at the Arcane University, once."

I cocked an eyebrow at that. "Really? Must've taken some work to get in."

There was something almost strained about his smile as he said, "It did. I was there for several years, until…" His smile suddenly faltered and fell.

"What is it?" I asked.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry. It's not that I don't trust you, but… I'm not sure I'm ready to tell you about that just yet."

"Fair enough."

* * *

 

The last leg of the road to the Priory was easier. Somehow, things had become more open between us, like some kind of wall had broken down. I told him about Morrowind, about Pelagiad and Balmora and Mournhold. He told me about his profound love for books. I read, of course, but not nearly as much as he did. Books were his passion.

But there were still these secrets, lurking like shadows at the edge of the firelight. I could feel them, heavy on our shoulders. I was used to it by now. Secrets were something that I had plenty of. But every time the conversation turned in the direction of one of his, he faded into this kind of melancholic silence. Something was weighing heavily on his soul. I can't explain why, but it frustrated me. I'd been pulled in too deep for my own good.

"Tell me about your family," I said on a whim the night before we reached the Priory.

He shook his head. "It's not important."

"Family is  _always_  important," I snapped. I regretted it as soon as I'd said it.

He frowned at me, a quizzical tilt to his brow. I sighed and crossed my arms. I didn't want to tell him, but there was no turning back.

"I was twelve, almost thirteen. Vvardenfell isn't always the safest place, especially not for an Imperial child. Some bandits caught me when I wandered too far from home. I think they were planning to sell me into slavery on Azura's Coast. They would have, too, if my father and some of the other legionnaires hadn't rescued me. The bandits were killed in the fight, but so was my father."

"I didn't know. I'm sorry."

I shrugged. "I learned to live with it. I have for fourteen years. It was just life. It happened. But that wasn't the worst part, no. When I got home and my mother heard what happened, it was like she was  _gone_. She wasn't my mother anymore; she was just a lifeless husk. I don't think she even knew I was there, let alone recognized me. I couldn't take it. After a month I left home and didn't look back."

I faintly noticed that I was shaking. Martin was staring at me with a look of concern on his face. For some reason, I couldn't stop. The words just kept falling, unbidden, from my lips.

"You think becoming a thief was the worst thing I've done? No. Leaving my mother to die alone was. I should have been there for her when she needed me."

"You were twelve."

"I was old enough to take care of myself!" I snapped. "Why wasn't I old enough to take care of  _her?_ "

He didn't answer. I looked away, my fists clenching tightly as I fought to hold back tears. What had I expected that to solve? Nothing was going to bring her back, or Da. They were gone where I couldn't reach them.

Then I heard Martin sigh and say softly, "I don't remember my mother; she died when I was very young. My father and I didn't have much, but we made do. Even though it was difficult at times, he made certain I could read and, when I displayed an affinity for the arcane arts, he supported me. He became very ill when I was eighteen. I did the best I could to save him, but…" He trailed off. I looked over at him, watching as he clasped his hands together and lowered his head, his brown hair falling forward to obscure his face. "… It wasn't enough. When I went to the Arcane University, I went for him. It's what he would have wanted."

I didn't know what to say. Looking at him was like looking at a different person than I thought I knew. It just reminded me that, really, I didn't know the man at all. Not yet.

Martin glanced up at me and his blue eyes shone in the light of the fire. "Forgive me," he said softly. "I shouldn't–"

"Don't."

He stopped.

I stared him right in the eye as I told him, "Don't apologize to me about what you've done. I get it. At least  _you_  followed your dreams."

"Not quite." His tone was bitter, and I saw coldness in his eyes. Yes, that mysterious "until." He'd been at the University "until"… I didn't think it was right to ask about it, not at that moment, but what he had said was more than enough for me.

"Then we're more alike than I'd thought," I said.

He looked me over thoughtfully then. "Perhaps we are."

* * *

 

It was midday before we reached the Priory. Martin had gone quiet and a look of reservation had crept onto his face as we approached our destination.

"Everything will be  _fine_ ," I told him, rolling my eyes.

At that moment, I caught sight of someone running down the lane toward us. The Priory's sheepherder. He stumbled toward me, out of breath and crying, "Help! You must help! They're killing everyone at Weynon Priory!"

"And I spoke too soon," I muttered. "What happened?"

"I don't know! I think they're right behind me! Prior Maborel is dead!"

Martin stepped in and asked the mer in a composed voice, "Calm down. Please, start from the beginning."

"I was in the sheepfold when they attacked," he gasped. "I heard the Prior talking to someone. Looked around the corner to see who it was. They looked like travelers, ordinary. Suddenly weapons appeared in their hands and they cut down the Prior before I could move! They saw me watching and I ran."

"Where's Jauffre?"

"I don't know. In the Chapel praying, I think. You must help us!"

Sure enough, when I looked over at the Priory, a gang of familiar-looking black and red armored figures was racing toward us. Cursing inwardly, I drew my bow and snapped at the herder, "Get behind me." I shot one of them. Keeping the frightened mer back, I told Martin, "You may want to get out of here. This is going to get ugly."

"Not a chance."

The assassins reached us. I shot them down while Martin hurled spells into their midst. There weren't enough to overpower us, but they did force us back. Luckily, Martin was made of sterner stuff than I'd previously given him credit for. The sheepherder, however, quickly fled to somewhere safer.

"Who are they?" Martin called to me over the fight. They had surrounded us, and we were forced to fight back to back.

"I don't know, but I've fought them before!" I shouted back. And I had. They wore the same armor as the assassins that murdered the Emperor. When they fell, the armor melted away to reveal those same blood-red robes. They were after Martin, but they wouldn't have him.

When all the assassins were dead, Martin turned to me and ran a shaking hand through his hair. "I think we should find your friend Jauffre at once."

"I'd hardly call him a friend, but you're right. Come on."

"I'm with you."

The two of us ran into the Chapel to find Jauffre cornered by the altar, holding off several of the agents. They heard us coming and immediately rushed to attack. One ran at Martin, weapon raised to strike him down. I fired at him, catching him in the throat with my arrow, and he crumpled to the Chapel floor. Martin spun to stare at me. It had been a close shot, I'll admit.

"Watch yourself," I told him as I rushed past to help Jauffre. As it turned out, he didn't really need it. He cut down the last assassin just as I reached him. His eyes flashed between the bodies scattered haphazardly about the chapel before finally noticing me. With a cry of relief he said, "You're back. Thank Talos! I was praying when I heard Prior Maborel shout. I had just time to arm myself." He stopped as if frozen by a thought. "The Amulet of Kings. I fear that was the target of this attack."

"Well, where is it?" I asked as I lowered my bow.

"I kept it secret in Weynon House. We need to go see if it is safe."

"All right. I'll go check."

He shook his head. "We'll go together, but I fear the worst."

Jauffre raced past and through the door, quick as lightning. Martin barely had time to step aside as he passed. I followed Jauffre and motioned for Martin to come as well.

"This wasn't part of the plan, was it?" He asked as we walked outside.

"You think?" I retorted with mock surprise.

Jauffre led us into the House, up the stairs, and around a corner. When I finally caught up with him, he was in a side room I hadn't noticed till then. He turned to me with fear in his eyes.

"They've taken it. The Amulet of Kings is  _gone_. The enemy has defeated us at every turn!"

"Not quite," I murmured. "I've got Martin."

Jauffre hadn't really seemed to notice my quiet companion until I nodded lightly in his direction. He peered around me into the hall and he raised his eyebrows, visibly shocked.

"So it has not all gone against us," he breathed. "Thank Talos for that. We gained Uriel's heir and lost the Amulet of Kings." He took my arm and led me out of the room and down the stairs, saying, "Martin cannot stay here. We may have driven them off, but they will be back once they learn of Martin's survival, which they will." We both stopped at the bottom of the stairs and he said in a grim voice, "I should have known they could find the Amulet. Little can remain hid from a Daedric Prince. I underestimated the enemy. It will not happen again."

"Then where in Talos's name can we keep him so he'll be safe?" The idea of a place like that existing was getting slimmer with each passing moment.

"Nowhere is truly safe against the powers arrayed against us, but we must play for time, at least… Cloud Ruler Temple, I think. The hidden fortress of the Blades, in the mountains near Bruma. A few men can hold it against an army. We should leave at once."

When I nodded he left the House. I remained inside, thinking hard. Martin stopped beside me and asked, "What is it?"

"I just… I don't understand," I said, feeling puzzled. "The daedra were there in Kvatch. The assassins got here before us. Maybe they managed to get the exact location of where Jauffre hid the Amulet out of Prior Maborel, and  _that's_ why they killed him like they did, but that doesn't explain how they knew it was here at all."

"It's difficult to keep secrets hidden from the daedra," Martin explained, his voice grim. "Their magic is as powerful as it is terrible."

I nodded, my heart suddenly feeling heavy at the thought. With that kind of power… how were we supposed to stop them?


	6. Fear

We traveled for five days. Bruma lay at the end of the Silver Road, which we were quickly closing in on. Soon enough we'd be there and then at least  _some_  of my worries would be over. Jauffre kept Martin occupied most of the time, filling him in on exactly what was happening far better than I had. Martin and I barely talked during the journey. Isolation was something I was used to, having lived with it for so long, but from him? No. It was strange, to say the least. Every so often, though, I felt him watching me, and I wondered what he was thinking. It wasn't my job to talk, though. My job was to get both him and Jauffre to Cloud Ruler Temple in one piece, and I planned to do just that.

Thunder rumbled ominously overhead. I frowned and looked up. Before there hadn't been a cloud in the sky, but thunderheads were quickly rolling in. More bad weather meant even more delays. Great. I rolled my eyes.

After a few minutes the rumblings intensified. From behind me Martin called, "Mara?"

I looked over my shoulder to see him staring up at the sky with dread. I lifted my eyes to see what the matter was. The storm clouds above us were roiling with red fire. Cracks appeared in the sky, blazing out to the horizon.

"No," I gasped.

"What is that?" I heard Jauffre ask. I whipped my head around, looking for the source. Over the hill beside the road, I saw smoke and the flicker of fire that could only mean one thing.

"No.  _No!_ "

I leapt from my horse and stumbled up the hill. Martin shouted after me. I didn't pay attention; I was too focused on getting up there. At the top I skidded to a halt and stared ahead in horror as my worst fears were confirmed. An Oblivion Gate belched fire out onto the hillside. Daedra climbed out, clawing and roaring at the air. I was frozen, too shocked to even move. The sound of footsteps behind me a moment later told me that Martin and Jauffre had caught up with me.

"Talos preserve us," Jauffre whispered.

"Both of you stay here!" I hissed, righting myself and drawing my bow. As I crept in a circle around the Gate, watching the daedra that came out, I fired an arrow at one that was getting too close to where Martin and Jauffre were hiding. It fell with a screech and suddenly all eyes were on me. Flames scorched the ground where I'd been only moments before as I ran. Right then I couldn't stop to get another shot ready; I had to get in and close the Gate. I was almost there, only feet away, when I felt claws rake my shoulder. Then a blast of frozen air whistled past my ear, taking the daedra with it. I whirled, my eyes wide.

"Martin! Get back!" I shouted at him.

But he was too close, and the daedra were coming at us from all sides. I had no time to draw my sword. Without thinking, I grabbed his arm and pulled him with me through the fiery portal.

* * *

 

I didn't let go of Martin's arm until we were safely hidden behind some craggy boulders near the Gate. The daedra had followed us in, but quickly gave up pursuit. Once I couldn't hear them anymore, I turned on Martin with raw fury and spat, " _What is wrong with you?_ "

"You would have been killed. I couldn't let you–"

"Don't you understand? This is Mehrunes Dagon's realm, and I've just let you walk right into his filthy claws!"

"I'm not dead yet, am I?" He asked.

Unable to think of a response, I snapped, "Go back. Now."

He shook his head. "I won't leave you here alone."

"I can close Gates by myself!"

"You closed  _one_ , and once does not make you an expert. Please, Mara. For once, let me help you."

I couldn't stand to see his pleading look, and quickly turned my gaze away. In my head I weighed the odds of our survival in here. He wasn't dead yet, which most likely meant that Dagon didn't know he was there, and the Deadlands were probably the last place he'd think to look for Martin. Two people meant that we'd be noticed more easily, but it also meant we'd have a better chance of survival in a fight. And, really, he couldn't go back. They'd notice him.

"Fine," I groaned. "But you have to do  _exactly_  what I say."

I peered around one of the boulders. In the distance I could see the Black Tower, surrounded by a lake of fire. There was a closer, smaller tower on this side of the lava. I squinted. Was that a bridge up there? It looked like it.

"We need to get up there," I said, pointing to the shorter of the two towers.

"What's your plan?"

I looked over at him with a grim smile. "Exactly what it was last time; don't get caught."

We crept out from our hiding place and headed for the tower. I climbed the ledge leading up to the door and, once I was sure that we were clear, helped him up beside me. Together we pulled open the heavy door leading to the tower. I put a finger to my lips. When he nodded I nocked an arrow and slunk into the shadows of the tower. The dark room inside was lit only by the pool of fire in the center. It illuminated a lone scamp on the other side of the room. I fired my arrow, striking it at the base of its skull. It fell, crumpling on the other side of the fire. I stepped forward, keeping my back to the wall, and circled around the room. So far the only sign of life was that lone scamp.

"I think we're good," I whispered. "Let's move."

The path through the tower took us up through dark and winding halls that were eerily still and silent. No signs of daedra of any kind. It sent chills down my spine even though the air around us was hot and musty. Surely we should have seen something else by then. More than that one scamp in the entry, anyway. But even the chamber at the very top of the tower was empty. I frowned.

"Where are they?" I murmured.

"Maybe we got lucky."

"Not here," I told him firmly. "Never in here."

The room was bare, save for a door and some kind of clawed mechanism on one of the walls. There was nothing else. As I turned back toward Martin, I saw him open the door.

"Don't!" I shouted, reaching for him. Beyond the open door was nothing, nothing but the empty fall towards the lava field below. Some part of me realized that he was going to fall. He'd already started to. Then I was there, grabbing the back of his robe and hauling him backward into the relative safety of the tower. We fell down, side by side, and hit the floor. I winced and quickly pushed myself up on my elbows.

"Are you alright?" I asked Martin. He looked at me, obviously startled, and nodded. With that taken care of, I crawled over to the doorway and looked out.

"Be careful." Martin called from behind me. "It's strange; why would they have a door that leads to nowhere?"

I stared out at the black tower. It was so close, yet so far. Reaching down, I felt along the side of the tower.

"That's because it  _doesn't_  lead to nowhere."

"What?"

I got to my feet and hurried across the room. Grabbing the lever, I yanked it down. The gears whirled and its red metal fingers clicked against them with a loud grinding and clanking that echoed off the walls. Moments later, the bridge began to slide out from our tower. I looked at it stretching out towards the Black Tower with some satisfaction.

"They'll have heard that," I told Martin as I helped him to his feet. "We need to hurry."

"Lead the way. I'm right behind you."

I stepped out onto the bridge first. It was narrower than would have liked, but I didn't doubt that I could cross it. Martin, however…

"Take my hand," I said, reaching back to him.

"Why? I'll be fine."

"Please, Martin. This is dangerous even for me. If you fall, I don't want to–"

He gripped my hand in his own. "I won't fall," he told me.

"You know it's not that I don't trust you," I said.

He smiled softly. "I know."

As we inched across, I kept my eyes fixed straight ahead. The door was so close… so close…

There was a rumbling sound and the bridge beneath us started moving. I whipped my head around. A Dremora was waiting for us at the doorway in the tower that we'd just left. And the bridge was sliding back towards it.

"Run!" I shouted, pulling Martin along. " _Run!_ "

Somehow we managed to keep our balance as we dashed over the receding strip of stone. As we neared the Black Tower, and I saw the gap between the bridge and the door, I knew we'd never make it. Not unless we did something crazy. As the distance shortened between us and our goal, I saw the door open, another Dremora ready with a morningstar. Perfect.

"We need to jump!"

"Are you mad?" Martin cried.

"Just do it!"

If I timed this right, we'd be fine. We'd make it.

"On my signal," I said. His hand tightened around mine as we put on speed. "Ready… set…"

The Dremora cackled and shook his head. My eyes narrowed.

" _Jump!_ "

I pulled Martin along behind me as I launched myself from the bridge and through the doorway. The Dremora couldn't get its mace up in time to stop us as I crashed headlong into him. The momentum sent the three of us sprawling. I was up first, standing over the Dremora while it tried to struggle to its feet. I stomped down on its exposed throat, crushing its windpipe. It shuddered, choking as it tried to breathe, before it lay still.

"Let's go," I told Martin. "We're almost there."

The top of the tower was built like the one that I had closed in Kvatch, with a gray tunnel leading up to the roaring chamber at the top. I peered around the doorway into the main room. Leaning back against the wall, I whispered to Martin, "There are three of them that I can see, and maybe more up top. We'll have to be fast."

He nodded and wisps of frozen mist dripped from his hand as he prepared his spell. I drew my sword.

"Now."

I whipped around the corner, racing straight for one of the Dremora. It spun to face me, but I was faster. I dodged its swing and lashed out with my blade. With a wet crunch its head went flying. I heard a shattering sound and a roar of pain; Martin had hit one of the Dremora. It fell back with wickedly-sharp shards of ice buried in its chest. The final daedra fired a spell at me. I jumped to the side, dodging that shot and its next. A blast of ice from Martin threw it off balance, long enough for me to stab my blade through the weak spot under its arm. It collapsed, snarling, as I slid out my sword. I had barely heard it hit the floor when I dashed up to the next level.

"Watch the stairs," I called to him over my shoulder. "They're slippery."

The upper floor was empty. I ran around towards the ramp up to the platform with the Stone. Nothing jumped out at me, so I quickly sheathed my sword and ascended. As before, the roar of the flame and the orb was nearly deafening, but this time I was prepared for it. I ignored the buzzing in my skull as I walked towards the orb. I reached out for it, bracing myself for its heat. But before I could reach it I heard the roar of flame behind me and I leapt aside. The fireball intended for me exploded against the platform. I whirled around to find myself facing a creature made entirely of flame. It hovered a few inches above the ground, its burning face turned towards me. I saw it lunge at me, felt its hands grasping. I screamed and wrenched myself away. From somewhere below I heard Martin shout my name. Right then, I had no thoughts to spare for him. I was barely able to do more than fumble with the hilt of my sword before another ball of flame came hurtling towards me. I threw myself to the ground to avoid being hit. The atronach bore down on me, both hands obscured in fiery halos. I crawled away from it, but I knew it was too late. It raised its arms high above its head as it prepared to cast an inferno down on me.

"No!"

The daedra turned fast, barely blocking Martin's swing with and upraised arm. With a metallic shriek, half of the forearm fell to the ground. Its fire fizzled out, leaving the amputated limb as nothing more than ash. The atronach lunged at him, and he dodged the attack. Then he pushed forward again with the daedric sword he wielded. While they were busy, I crawled out of the way and scrambled to my feet. I had to get the Stone. That was the only way we'd make it out now. I reached out and snatched the Stone from the air. Behind me, I heard the sounds of roaring fire and shattering ice, then the sound of a blade clattering against the platform.

"Mara!"

I spun, wild eyed, to see the daedra cast Martin down. His sword lay out of his reach. I ran at them. The orb was tucked under one arm while I reached for my sword with the other. He couldn't die. Not now.

The beam of fire that had been supported by the Stone exploded, rocking the whole tower. I fell to my knees beside Martin, barely keeping hold of the Stone. The atronach winked out of existence as the tower began to collapse beneath us. I felt Martin pull me into his arms as if trying to shield me. I braced myself against him and squeezed my eyes shut.

* * *

 

The next thing I felt was Martin's arms loosen around me. Somehow we weren't dead. I opened my eyes and looked around. The rubble of the Gate lay all around us in black, broken pieces. I stared at him, suddenly at a loss for words. We weren't dead. I started laughing and so did he.

"My Lord, are you injured?" Jauffre hurried over to us, looking frantic. "I saw you go into the Gate, and I feared the worst."

"No, we're both fine," Martin reassured him.

Jauffre's eyes snapped onto me. Was that disapproval I saw in them? Did he blame me for Martin going into the Gate? I looked away and said quietly, "We should keep moving. Pray that we don't see any more of these cursed things."

I heard Jauffre walk away. Beside me, Martin got to his feet. He held out his hand to me and, after a moment of hesitation, I took it and he pulled me up.

"You know," he said thoughtfully, "I don't believe I've ever heard you laugh before."

"And I don't think you ever will again."

I adjusted my grip on the Sigil Stone and followed Jauffre's lead back toward the road. Martin followed, quickly coming up beside me and matching my step.

"Did I do something wrong?" He asked.

I refused to look at him. "No. I just want to get to Cloud Ruler Temple without any more surprises. If we do run into another Gate I'll get you out alive, Divines willing."

"What about you?"

"This isn't about me."

He stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. "Yes, it is. You've gotten us this far, haven't you?"

"I hate to say it, but we've been very, very lucky so far. By all rights, we should both be dead." I turned and looked him square in the eye as I told him, "I'm not sure if I can get both of us out alive if we go into the Deadlands again. But if we do, believe me, I  _will_  make sure that it's you who survives."

* * *

 

We stopped before the gates of Cloud Ruler Temple. I stared up at the high stone walls and wrapped my arms tighter around myself to ward off the cold. Snow covered the ground all around us. The frigid wind didn't help. Luckily it wasn't long before the gates swung open and a man rushed out to meet us.

"Grandmaster, is this…"

Jauffre nodded. "Yes, Cyrus, this is the Emperor's son, Martin Septim."

"My Lord! Welcome to Cloud Ruler Temple. We have not had the honor of an Emperor's visit in many years," Cyrus said, finishing with a bow.

Martin, I could see, wasn't quite sure how to respond. His brow pinched together and he said uncertainly, "Ah, well, thank you! The honor is mine."

Jauffre steered him away, hurrying him through the gateway and up the stairs into the courtyard. "Come. Your Blades are waiting to greet you."

Martin shot me a look plainly saying, " _help_." I shrugged and gave him a sympathetic grimace. There wasn't anything I could do.

On the other side of the courtyard was a long building with a low, slanting roof. Before it stood two lines of men and women in armor; the Blades, all in full uniform. I walked to stand at the end of the right line, behind Cyrus. Jauffre pulled Martin onto the building's front steps and turned him to face the crowd. To them he called, "Blades! Dark times are upon us. The Emperor and his sons were slain on our watch. The Empire is in chaos. But there is yet hope. Here is Martin Septim, true son of Uriel Septim!"

As one, the Blades drew their swords and I jumped back in surprise. "Hail, Dragonborn! Hail, Martin Septim! Hail!" They roared, thrusting their blades towards the sky in a kind of salute.

"Your highness, the Blades are at your command," Jauffre went on. "You will be safe here until you can take up your throne."

He and the Blades watched Martin expectantly and silence settled upon them like a thick coating of dust. Martin's eyes flitted between them and, for a moment, I could see he wanted to be anywhere  _but_  there.

"Jauffre. All of you. I know you all expect me to be Emperor. I'll do my best. But this is all new to me. I'm not used to giving speeches." He let out a nervous laugh. Everyone was silent. I saw him clench and unclench his fists while his eyes roamed the crowd.

His gaze stopped on me, and I gave him a small smile, mouthing, " _Go on_."

He took a deep breath to steady himself. "But I… I wanted you to know I appreciate your welcome here. I hope I prove myself worthy of your loyalty in the coming days." Silence. "That's it. Thank you."

"Well then," Jauffre said after an awkward pause and cleared his throat. "Thank you, Martin. We'd all best get back to our duties, eh, Captain?"

The Blades dispersed. Once their focus was off him, Martin hurried through the throng, straight toward me.

"Not much of a speech, was it?" He asked shakily, running one hand through his hair. I bit my lip to keep from smiling. "It didn't seem to bother them, though. The Blades saluting me and hailing me as Martin Septim… I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I know I'd be dead now if it weren't for you. Thank you."

I just nodded, while silently thinking about how he'd handled himself on the road. He might have made it through all by himself if he'd been given the chance to fight. However, I was glad that he'd never had a chance to test it.

"… But everyone expects me to suddenly know what to do. How to behave. They want an Emperor to tell them what to do. And I haven't the faintest idea…" He trailed off.

"I hate to interrupt, but we've still got to get the Amulet back," I reminded him.

"Of course. The Amulet of Kings. So we… I…" he amended quickly, "… can take it to the Temple of the One and light the Dragonfires. And stop the Oblivion invasion."

"And then you'll be Emperor."

"The Emperor…" He laughed and shook his head. " _That's_  an idea that will take some getting used to. In any case, we need the Amulet first. Maybe Jauffre will know where to start."

"I should go check, but if you want me to stay–"

"Don't worry about it, my friend. I know I'm in good hands here." Then, with a hint of a smile, he said, "Farewell. For now."

He turned and walked towards the Fort's main building, leaving me staring blankly after him. In that moment something changed. He thought of me as a friend and I… I didn't mind. What I did mind was the thought of having to leave. Suddenly I didn't want to. It hadn't just been an offer. I wanted to stay. Gods forgive me, _I wanted to stay_.

Jauffre approached me eventually and said quietly, "You have proven yourself a loyal servant of the Empire, as worthy as any of the Blades to stand by Martin's side during this crisis. As the Grandmaster of the Blades, I would be honored to accept you into our order. Will you join us?"

I looked at him in surprise. The Blades were sworn to protect the Emperor… but wasn't that what I was doing anyway? What could it hurt?

"Yes, I will join the Blades."

"Then kneel."

I did.

"Do you, Mara Fides, swear undying loyalty to those of the Dragon Blood? To protect and serve them to your final breath?"

"I do, sir."

"Then it is my honor to welcome you into our ranks as a knight sister of the Blades."

I got to my feet. "Cyrus, fetch this girl a blade. She's one of us now."

Cyrus looked my way, nodded, and went through a door off the main building.

"I don't mean to interrupt, sir, but about the Amulet…"

"You're right. We must try to recover the Amulet before the enemy takes it out of our reach." Jauffre walked into the main hall, and I followed him. "You should return to the Imperial City. Baurus may have learned something about the assassins."

"Baurus is still there?"

"Yes. I tasked him with looking into the matter of the assassins after you left to find Martin. You should find him at Luther Broad's Boarding House in the Elven Gardens district."

Cyrus returned a few minutes later, a sword in his hands. He held it out to me, saying, "Welcome aboard, ma'am. It will be an honor to serve with you."

I nodded and took the sword from him. It was the lightly curved kind that all of them carried. I drew it and tested its weight and balance. Satisfied, I sheathed it and strapped the scabbard to my hip.

"Give my warm regards to Baurus," Jauffre told me. "Tell him he should not blame himself for the Emperor's death. He did well to send you to me."

"Will do, sir."


	7. Dawn

The bar of Luther Broad's was mostly empty by the time I arrived. A few people lingered at the tables, but not many. There was a lone man sitting at the counter, nursing an ale. As I got closer to him, I saw who it was.

Before I could say anything, Baurus whispered, "Sit down. Don't say anything; just do what I say." His lips barely even moved as he spoke. I sat down on the stool beside him and stared at the counter. "Listen. I'm going to get up in a minute and walk out of here. That guy in the corner behind me will follow me. You follow him."

I didn't look up to check; I knew better than that. I was sure my every move was being marked.

"Ready when you are," I mumbled, making as little sound as possible.

"Good. Remember; wait for him to follow me. I want to see what he'll do."

Baurus got to his feet and strolled around the counter and through a door in the back. He'd barely made it through when, sure enough, a man got up and followed him. Once I was sure he wouldn't notice I slunk after him, through the door and down the stairs beyond.

The stairs leading down to the inn's basement were lit only by the flickering light of torches on the walls. Ahead, I saw the shadow of the man as he crept down the stairs. I followed silently and drew my sword as quietly as I could. He didn't notice. There was a low rushing sound and an armored glove appeared on his hand. As he approached Baurus he raised his arm. A daedric dagger appeared in his closed fist.

I slapped the assassin's hand down with the flat of my blade. His dagger went clattering across the floor and dematerialized. The man spun to face me with a snarl. I sliced open his neck, nearly taking his head from his shoulders, and barely jumped aside in time to avoid the splash of blood that followed. His body collapsed to the floor with a thud.

I looked up from the corpse to Baurus and raised an eyebrow. He nodded.

"Search his body," the Blade told me. "I'll keep an eye out, in case any of his friends are nearby."

I knelt down to see what I could find. The man was a Breton, I quickly noticed, and was completely plain. His skin was pasty, his dark hair graying. His ears had the slight points common to many of his people. The garments he wore, other than the thick streak of red down his front, were just like the ones of any other man on the street. There were a handful of drakes on him. I pocketed them.

"Jauffre sent a message about you a while ago," Baurus said from behind me. "Mara, is it?"

"That's right," I said absently.

"I am glad to see you, by the way," he added. "You just caught me at a bad time."

"Every day of the week, it seems. What've you learned?"

"The assassins who killed the Emperor were part of a daedric cult known as the Mythic Dawn. Apparently worship the Daedra lord Mehrunes Dagon. I've been tracking their agents in the Imperial City. I guess they noticed."

I snorted. "I can see that." While I searched, I kept talking, "I found Uriel's heir, by the way. Martin Septim."

Baurus clapped his hands together in what might have been a prayer. "Thank  _Talos_  he lives! Martin Septim, you say… We will restore him to the throne! It is the sworn duty of all Blades."

"It's not going to be that easy. The enemy has the Amulet."

"What? They took it from Jauffre? Things are worse than I had thought…"

That's when I noticed the pocket sewn into the back of the man's shirt. Reaching in, I pulled out a book the size of my hand with a purple cover. I opened it and took a peek inside.

_Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes_

_Book One_

_by Mankar Camoran_

Beneath that, written in Daedric script, was a single word. Dagon. I frowned and kept reading.

_Greetings, novitiate, and know first a reassurance: Mankar Camoran was once like you, asleep, unwise, protonymic. We mortals leave the dreaming-sleeve of birth the same, unmantled save for the symbiosis with our mothers, thus to practice and finally rapproachment, until we might through new eyes leave our hearths without need or fear that she remains behind. In this moment we destroy her forever and enter the demesne of Lord Dagon…_

I got to my feet and brushed my hair back over my shoulder. "What do you make of this?" I asked Baurus, holding out the book. He took it from me and flipped through a few pages. After a few moments he shook his head.

"There's a scholar at the Arcane University. Tar-Meena's her name. Supposed to be an expert on Daedric Cults. Why don't you take it to her, see what she makes of it." He handed the book back to me. "I'll keep running down leads on the Mythic Dawn network. If you learn anything, I'll still be here. May Talos guide you."

* * *

 

When I got to the Arcane University I asked for Tar-Meena and was told to wait for her in the lobby. So I did. Sometime later, an Argonian stepped through one of the doors leading off of the lobby. Her searching reptilian eyes quickly found me and she smiled, revealing pointed white teeth.

"Ah," she said. "You must be the one I got the message about. How can I help you?"

I quickly shook off my surprise. Tar-meena  _was_ an Argonian name, so I shouldn't have been as surprised as I was. Besides, I wasn't in Morrowind anymore. Things were different back there.

Getting to my feet, I said, "A friend told me you're the one to go to about daedric cults. I need to talk to you about one called the Mythic Dawn."

She looked surprised. "You know of them? One of the most secretive of daedric cults. Not much is known about them. They follow the teachings of Mankar Camoran, whom they call "the Master." A shadowy figure in his own right."

"Well, I found one of their books." I held the small tome out to her.

"Ah yes. "Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes." Wonderful! You have a scholarly interest in daedric cults, then?"

"Not… not quite. I need to find the Mythic Dawn."

"Find them, eh? I won't poke my nose any further. Official business and all that." To my look of surprise, she tapped the side of her scaled nose and replied, "I'm used to working with the Blades, don't worry. Say no more. In any case, finding them won't be easy. I've studied Mankar Camoran's writings a bit myself, at least those that I could  _find_. It is clear from the text that Mankar Camoran's 'Commentaries' come in four volumes, but I've only ever seen the first two books. I believe that his writings contain hidden clues to the location of the Mythic Dawn's secret shrine to Mehrunes Dagon. Those who unlock this hidden path have proven themselves worthy to join the ranks of the Mythic Dawn cult. Finding the shrine is the first test. If you want to find them, you'll need all four volumes of the "Commentaries.""

"Any idea where to look?"

"You can have the library's copy of Volume Two. Treat it gently, if you please! As I said, I've never even seen the third or fourth volumes. You should try First Edition, over in the Market District. Phintias, the proprietor, caters to specialist collectors. He may have an idea of where to locate those books."

I left the University, my mind on the market and wondering how I was going to get my hands on those books.

* * *

 

"I'm Phintias, owner and proprietor of the First Edition," the man said in a somewhat bored voice when I entered. "Look around. If I don't have it, maybe I can get it."

I leaned against the counter with one hand while the other rested on my hip.

"What about the Mysterium Xarxes?" I asked.

"You must mean the Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes. Common mistake." I frowned at the snobbish tone he was giving me. "It comes in four volumes. The first two volumes are rare, but you  _may_ run across them from time to time. The third and fourth are nearly impossible to find."

"Well, I need volumes three and four."

"I happen to have a copy of Volume Three on hand, but I'm afraid it is a special order." He shrugged. "Already paid for by another customer, and Gwinas would be terribly disappointed if it was gone when he came to pick it up.  _So sorry_  I can't help you."

He certainly didn't sound sorry.

"Who is this Gwinas, anyway?"

"I don't know him personally, but he was very eager to get his hands on Volume three of Camoran's "Commentaries." Came all the way from Valenwood! As a matter of fact, he's already late for his appointment to pick up the book." Phintias looked anxiously toward the shop's door. "Feel free to wait for him if you want to speak to him yourself."

"Oh, I'll do that," I said grimly.

I leaned against one of the walls, arms crossed and watching the door. I waited for a good half an hour before the Bosmer walked in. He was dressed in red robes, nice ones that were covered with embroidery, and his tawny hair was pulled back. He ignored me and made his way straight to the counter.

"I'm here for my book, Mankar Camoran's "Commentaries" Volume three." He said.

"Of course, here you go." I heard a rustle as Phintias reached beneath the counter and pulled out a small, wrapped package. "Keep us in mind for any future needs."

"Thank you, thank you. I cannot tell you how long I've been looking for this book!"

Gwinas promptly left, and I followed him out the door. Once I felt that we were a good distance from the shop, I called, "Master Gwinas, I'd like to talk to you about that book you have, the "Commentaries.""

He whirled around, clutching the package tightly to his chest. "Have you been following me? Leave me alone! That book is  _mine!_ "

"Are you with the Mythic Dawn?" I snarled.

"The Mythic Dawn? Are you… I mean, I don't know what you're talking about! I don't know anything about any cult."

I chuckled blackly. "Oh, you're in  _way_ over your head."

"I beg your pardon? You presume to tell me about daedric cults?" He puffed out his chest as he said, "I'll have you know I visited the Shrine of Sheogorath during the Festival of the Mad! I've spoken with Hermaeus Mora beneath the full moons! I've…"

I slammed the tiny mer back against the wall. " _They murdered the Emperor, you s'wit!_ "

All color drained from his face and he stammered, "What? The Mythic Dawn were the ones… You have to believe me! I truly had no idea. I mean, I knew they were a daedric cult. Mankar Camoran's views on Mehrunes Dagon are fascinating, revolutionary even… But to murder the Emperor… Mara preserve us!"

I almost laughed at the irony.

"Give me the book. Now."

"Yes. Of course! I don't want anyone to think I had anything to do with their insane plots! Here." He shoved the wrapped book into my hands. "Volume three is yours. What you do with it is your business."

"I need the fourth as well."

The Bosmer's expression turned dark upon hearing that. "You can only get Volume four directly from a member of the Mythic Dawn. I had set up a meeting with the Sponsor, as he calls himself. Here, take this note they gave me. It tells you where to go. I don't want anything else to do with the Mythic Dawn."

I released him and he handed me a small, folded piece of parchment before racing off. I watched him go and unfolded the paper.

"Sewers under the Elven Gardens," I murmured. It was time to talk to Baurus.

* * *

 

"What have you found out?"

I'd just stepped back in to Luther Broad's to find Baurus waiting for me. As I walked over to meet him, I pulled out the note and waggled it between my first and middle fingers. "I got a meeting with a member of the Mythic Dawn to get the last of the "Commentaries.""

"Let me see that," he said, snatching it away. As he read, I smiled and crossed my arms. "… This might just be the break we've been looking for! Good work."

"I try."

"We need to get that fourth book, then. If Tar-Meena is right, we can use these books to locate the Mythic Dawn's hidden shrine. Let's go. I know that part of the sewers well."

Baurus led me out of the inn and through the streets to a small grate. He went down first. I followed, jumping the last few rungs onto the moldy stone floor of the sewer. I wrinkled my nose.

"And here I was, hoping I'd never have to set foot in another sewer again."

"Sorry, Mar. It can't really be helped."

"I know." I shook out my arms. "Let's just get this over with."

Our path led us through winding tunnels that almost made me feel like we were going in circles. Baurus finally stopped me at a wall. On our level was a sturdy door. To the left, a flight of stairs led to another door above us.

"All right. The room with the table is just through this door. I always wondered who put it there…"

"Baurus. Focus."

He shook his head. "Right, right. I happen to know that if you go up the stairs there, you can get a vantage point on the meeting room," he said, pointing up to the door at the top of the stairs. "I think I'd better be the one to handle the meeting. You'll be my backup. Keep watch from above in case of trouble."

I wasn't all that good with people, and I probably would have blown the whole thing if I'd been left to the meeting, so I nodded. "I'll cover you."

"Good. Remember,  _we_   _must not leave here without the book_. It's our best chance of finding the Amulet."

I tightened the laces on one of my bracers. "Ready when you are."

He didn't go immediately. Instead, he put a hand on my shoulder. "Listen. I may not survive this. But if I don't, _you_ must. You must recover the book and find the Amulet of Kings."

I smirked and shook my head. "You're not going to die."

"Mar, I'm serious."

"You're not going to die because I'm not going to let you. If I need to take the shot, I won't miss."

"Glad to have you at my back." He squared his shoulders and turned towards the door. "Let's do this."

As he stepped through the door, I hurried up the stairs. Inside was a kind of bridge. Baurus sat down at a table below. Candlelight flickered off his expressionless face. He didn't once look up at me. Good. I was less likely to be caught if he ignored me. I drew my bow and nocked an arrow. Just in case.

After a minute, a red-robed figure walked out of a side passage. I trained my arrow on him, keeping as quiet as possible. If we were lucky, I wouldn't have to shoot.

"So, you want to become one of the Chosen of Mehrunes Dagon?" He asked Baurus. "The path of Dawn is difficult, but the rewards are great. I have the book you seek. With it, and the Master's three other books, you will possess the key to enlightenment..."

I heard the sound of a gate creaking open. On the other side of the bridge two figures in red robes stepped out of the shadows. They were headed right for me. My gaze snapped down to Baurus and back up again. The Sponsor was still talking to him. At any moment the cultists would catch sight of me and it would all be over. I bit the inside of my cheek and tried to keep my hands from shaking.

Just a few moments more. All we needed was the book.

One of the cultists suddenly stopped and grabbed the arm of the other to stop him. I saw him peer through the gloom toward where I waited. At that moment, the sponsor stood and said, "Wait, I've seen you before. You're the Blade that Brother Astav was tailing!"

He fell onto the table, my arrow sticking out of his back.

The two cultists fired spells at me, but I was already running down the stairs. Baurus waited at the bottom.

"Come on!" He shouted at them.

I slid to a stop, turned, and nocked an arrow in time to see them summon their infernal armor. I fired at one of them, but he knocked my shot aside. Cursing, I backed up. Baurus charged and I heard the sound of metal clanging against metal. The remaining cultist strode towards me. I tossed my bow aside and drew my sword, bringing it up just in time to block his swing. He laughed and the sound came out as a guttural, rasping echo from behind his mask.

"I do not fear death," he said. "Can you say the same?"

I shoved my sword up, snarling with effort, and pushed his back several inches.

" _Yes_."

I ducked out of the way. The effort of trying to hold me back was suddenly gone and he fell, his armor clattering on the stone floor. When he rolled over and tried to get back up, I slammed my boot down on his chest, pinning him down, and stabbed my blade down between the plates of his armor. He didn't make a sound. Snarling, I ripped his stomach open. Blood poured out, staining the red robe that appeared on him. He let out a final gasp that sounded like, "I go to my Lord," and was still.

I turned away from the corpse to see Baurus finish dispatching the other cultist. He stared down at the mer grimly.

"That's three more that won't be reporting back to their master." He walked over to the table, pulled the book out of the hands of the body that lay sprawled across it, and handed it to me. "Now that you have all four books, you should be able to handle things from here. I'm going to Cloud Ruler Temple. My place is at Martin's side."

"Gods be with you, Baurus."

"You, too."

* * *

 

Tar-meena was waiting for me at the Arcane University when I returned. She looked up from the book she was reading, her amber eyes bright.

"I think I may have figured out the hidden message in Mankar Camoran's books! Do you have the third and fourth volumes with you?"

"Uh, yes. Right here."

I held them out to her and she quickly took them from me.

"Excellent. Let's see…" She flipped through the pages, delicately running a clawed finger down the paper and murmuring to herself as she read. "Yes! The first letter of each paragraph spells out a message! Write this down: "Green Emperor Way Where Tower Touches Midday Sun.""

Clearly she was used to mages that had paper and quills with them at all times. I'd just have to settle for remembering what she'd said.

"Are you familiar with Green Emperor Way?" When I shook my head, she told me, "They're the gardens around the Imperial Palace. Something must be revealed there at noon! How exciting!"

"It's almost noon now."

She gave me back the books and waved me off toward the door. "Go, go. You don't want to miss it. I've half a mind to go down to Green Emperor way myself and see what's there. Well, good luck. I hope you find what you're looking for."

I tucked the books under my arm and raced out of the University.

Once I made it into the central part of the city, I realized that she didn't mean "garden" so much as "massive graveyard." The ring of the Green Emperor Way surrounded the white tower of the Imperial Palace.

The place was silent as I walked between the headstones and mausoleums. The grass was dry and brittle. It crunched beneath my feet with every step I took. The shadow of the White-Gold tower led me deep within the graveyard to a lonely mausoleum. I circled it, staring at its stone walls smooth. Nothing. I stopped and crossed my arms. It didn't help that I didn't know  _what_  I was looking for.

In the distance, the bells in the Temple District sounded noon. As they did, the symbol of the rising sun appeared at the top of the door. Beneath it was a map of Cyrodiil. Both glowed with a sinister blood-red light. I stepped forward, tracing a path from the Imperial city to the large star marking a location in the upper right-hand corner.

Cheydinhal.


	8. Shrine

"She's back!" I heard someone call above me. "Open the gates!"

The enormous gates of Cloud Ruler swung out a moment later and I walked up the steps leading to the main fort. Several of the other Blades greeted me on the way up. At the top, I heard sounds coming from the practice yard. I glanced over. When I saw who was there, I immediately headed in that direction.

"No, widen your stance. Now adjust your grip on the sword."

"Like this?"

Baurus nodded. "Better."

While I was glad to see the Blade again, it wasn't him that my attention was focused on. No, I was watching Martin. He was clad not in his usual robes, but in a simple shirt and trousers. His chestnut hair was pulled back to keep it out of his face. Most unusual of all was the sword in his hands.

"Are you sure he should be handling that?" I called. Baurus looked up with a grin. Martin turned to me with a look of surprise and lowered the sword. I walked over to the two men and said, "Someone could get hurt, you know."

Martin looked a little put-out at my comment. "I am perfectly capable of handling a blade, thank you very much."

"Really? Remember what happened in the Black Tower?" I asked with a smirk.

His expression didn't change, but I saw the sparkle in his eye. "I seem to recall that I saved your life."

"Nearly getting yourself killed in the process, yes."

"All right, all right!" Baurus said, putting up his hands in surrender. "I'll leave it to you two. Don't mind me." He took the sword from Martin and walked back towards the great hall.

"It's good to see you again, Baurus!" I shouted after him.

"You too, Mar. You too."

"Making friends, I see," Martin said with a hint of a smile.

"And it's all your fault."

"My fault?"

"Yes." I crossed my arms and continued, "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here."

"Are you complaining?"

I felt the corner of my mouth twitch. "No."

Martin hooked a finger under my chin and tilted my head up until I was looking at him. "Is that a smile I see?" He asked.

"Of course not."

He gave me a skeptical look and all attempts to keep my expression blank failed. I laughed quietly and shook my head.

"Fine. Happy now?"

"Yes, actually." His expression sobered and he asked softly, "Did you run into any more Gates on the way back?"

I shook my head. "No. It was very quiet. I don't understand. I didn't think things like that were even  _possible_."

"All practitioners of daedric magic are familiar with the almost impenetrable barrier between our world and Oblivion. What the Emperor told you implies that the Amulet is the key to the preservation of that barrier. What I saw at Kvatch…" He stopped and there was a pensive look in his eyes as his gaze turned away from me. "Everything I know about daedric magic says that such stable portals are impossible. Yet those gates to Oblivion existed. The old rules no longer apply. Kvatch is only the beginning of what Mehrunes Dagon will do. If the Amulet truly is the key to restoring the barriers between our world and Oblivion, you must waste no time in recovering it."

"Mm. One question: how does a priest know so much about daedric magic?"

He gave me a wry smile. "I haven't  _always_ been a priest. In my youth, I followed a different path. I know more than I want to about the seductive power of daedric magic. Let's just leave it at that."

It took me a moment to let what he'd said sink in.  _Daedric magic_. That was his secret. A chill slid down my spine and I quickly squelched the feeling. How was it any worse than what I did?

I snapped out of my stupor. "I can't stay long. Camoran's near Cheydinhal, but I don't know exactly where. I didn't trust looking anywhere else for this information, so–"

"So you came back here, yes. Would you like some assistance with that?"

A smile slid onto my lips. "As a matter of fact, I would."

I followed him into the fortress's east wing. At the far end of the hall was a small library. I watched with some amusement as he rummaged through the shelves, muttering softly to himself as he pulled out some of the books.

"Hasn't taken you long to familiarize yourself with this part of Cloud Ruler Temple, has it?" I asked. He just chuckled in response.

With his arms full of books, he walked over to one of the hall's several tables. He sat down and I took a seat across from him. Pulling one of the tomes over in front of him, he opened it. He brushed a loose strand of brown hair away from his face and asked me in a somewhat absent voice, "Mankar Camoran is hiding somewhere near Cheydinhal, you say?"

"Yes, but that's the most that I got," I said. He let out a soft  _hmm_ and flipped through the pages of the book.

We stayed there for some time, looking through the books to see where Camoran could possibly be hiding. So far, we weren't coming up with much. I leaned my elbow against the table and rested my cheek against my closed fist. My lips twitched in irritation at the lack of success. The s'wit had to be  _somewhere._

"The city itself would be too obvious a hiding place for Dagon's shrine," I commented. "There are too many cultists."

Martin nodded. "I agree. It may be somewhere nearby, but in a place that's less conspicuous."

"Wasn't there something in one of those books about a large cave north of the city?" I asked him.

"Lake Arrius Caverns, yes. I think–"

We both reached for the tome at the same time and our fingers brushed for an instant. I hastily snatched my hand away.

"Sorry."

"It's quite all right," he said. Still, he cleared his throat and focused his gaze on the pages of the book. "The caverns would certainly be big enough to house the shrine. There are also rumors that they're haunted."

"That would keep most people away. Right. That's probably my best bet."

As I got up to leave, Martin said, "Stay safe. Please."

"I'll try," I told him. I didn't want to make a promise that I might not be able to keep.

He nodded solemnly. "Then go with Akatosh, my friend."

* * *

 

I trudged up the hill, rocks crunching under my boots with every step. I'd grudgingly left my weapons behind near Lake Arrius and made sure they were hidden so that they'd still be there when I got back. Luckily, my destination wasn't far.

The cave cut into the side of the hill overlooking the lake. Inside the air was dry and cold. Wind from outside whistled eerily in the entrance, dying down to more of a hum the further I walked inside. Near the end was a wooden door in the wall with torches set up on either side. A man stood before it, garbed in the red robes I recognized as belonging to the Mythic Dawn.

"Dawn is breaking," he said as I approached. His gaze bored into me.

"Greet the new day."

"Welcome, sister." He bowed his head and continued, "The hour is late, but the Master still has need for willing hands. You may pass into the Shrine. Harrow will take you to the Master for your initiation into the service of Lord Dagon. Do not tarry. The time of Preparation is almost over. The time of Cleansing is near."

I didn't particularly like the way he'd said "cleansing."

He unlocked the door and opened it for me before stepping back.

"Harrow waits within. You should not linger here."

I nodded and proceeded through to the next tunnel. As I stepped inside, a Dunmer strode towards me.

"I am Harrow, warden of the Shrine of Dagon," he told me. "By following the Path of Dawn hidden in the writings of the Master, Mankar Camoran, you have earned a place among the Chosen. You have arrived at an opportune time. You may have the honor to be initiated into the Order by the Master himself. As a member of the Mythic Dawn, everything you need will be provided for you from the Master's bounty. Give me your possessions, and put on this initiate's robe."

I did as I was told. Suddenly I was very glad I'd left all of my things behind. Once I was properly dressed, he nodded and beckoned me forward.

"Very good. Follow me. I will take you to the Shrine."

I walked silently behind him as he led me down through the cave's dark, winding tunnels. Other cultists nodded to us as we passed. I kept my eyes fixed on Harrow the entire time, though I tried to keep track of all the cultists we passed. Not many, but who knew their numbers? The likelihood of my getting the Amulet and leaving in one piece was getting slimmer with every moment that passed. It was suicide, but what choice did I have?

Harrow led me out onto a stone balcony overlooking a huge cavern. At the far end was an enormous statue of Mehrunes Dagon. A crowd of red-robed figures stood assembled below it. As we walked down the stairs towards them, I saw the Altmer that stood on the stone platform above them.

"The Dragon Throne is empty," he cried to the gathering, "and we hold the Amulet of Kings! Praise be to your brothers and sisters. Great shall be their reward in Paradise!"

A chant of "Praise be" went up among the cultists. I had my own sort of chant going in my head as I held my tongue.  _Talos grant me strength, Stendarr grant me patience…_

"Hear now the words of Lord Dagon." The man looked down at the crowd arrayed before him with cold eyes. " _When I walk the earth again, the Faithful among you shall receive your reward: to be set above all other mortals forever. As for the rest; the weak shall be winnowed; the timid shall be cast down; the mighty shall tremble at my feet and pray for pardon._ "

"So sayeth Lord Dagon. Praise be."

"Your reward, brothers and sisters! The time of cleansing draws nigh. I go now to Paradise. I shall return with Lord Dagon at the coming of the Dawn!"

That's when I saw what was in his hand, held aloft over the crowd. The familiar flash of gold and ruby-red. The Amulet of Kings. My eyes widened. He turned and walked back towards the statue of Dagon. As he did, there was a roar of light and flame and a ring of fire formed in the air before him. He stepped through it and was gone.

I was too late.

The numbing shock I felt was so great, I barely noticed what was happening until Harrow pushed me toward the dais.

"We have a new sister who wishes to bind herself to the service of Lord Dagon," he said in a formal voice.

The Altmer woman above us nodded. "Advance, initiate!"

I climbed the steps to face her. She looked me over haughtily and said, "You have come to dedicate yourself to Lord Dagon's service. This pact must be sealed with red-drink, the blood of Lord Dagon's enemies." She indicated an altar set below the statue. An unconscious Argonian was tied to it. "Take up the dagger and offer Lord Dagon the sacrificial red-drink as pledge of your own life's blood, which shall be his in the end."

The womer handed me the dagger. I stared at my reflection in the blade before looking up at her coldly.

"Pay with your own blood,  _n'wah!_ " I snarled, burying it to the hilt in her chest.

She gasped and crumpled, clawing uselessly at the dagger. All around us, the cultists shouted and cast on their armor. I grabbed the staff from the dying Mer and faced them, slamming it into those in my reach, and firing spells at those who weren't. The moment I got my hands on a blade, I cast the staff aside and faced them with that instead. They weren't prepared for this, and soon every one of them lay dead or dying at my feet. With that finished, I turned my attention on the Argonian.

"Hey," I said as I shook his shoulder, "wake up."

He blinked and his amber reptilian eyes stared up at me.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"A friend. Now I've got to get you out of here." I pulled the knife out of the dead womer's chest and used it to cut the bindings on his wrists, chest, and ankles. Then I helped him to his feet. He shook his head and rubbed a clawed hand over his temple.

"What happened?"

"You were kidnapped, obviously."

As I looked around for a way out, something caught my eye. A book rested on a second altar, placed near the front of the dais. Its pale leather binding cracked and faded with time. The symbol on the cover, engraved in iron, still shone in the light of the torches. The daedric letter 'O'. I moved slowly towards it, suddenly curious. Could it be what I thought it was? Hesitantly, I lifted the cover. What I saw were rows and rows of daedric text written in what looked an awful lot like blood. Trouble was they were  _moving_. The letters slid across the page, words morphing into others as I watched. What little I could read didn't give me much comfort. "Forever," "tremble," "blood," "fire"…

I slammed the book shut. Closing my eyes, I leaned against the stone block and took a deep breath. I could still see the letters twisting around in my mind, forming words that sent chills down my spine.

_For Lord Dagon forever reborn in blood and fire from the waters of Oblivion._

I opened my eyes and snatched up the book. No sooner had I done that then the statue of Dagon crumbled. The Argonian jumped clear and we both stared at the ruined stone remains. Dagon's cruel, carved eyes stared up at me with burning hatred and somehow I knew that he was watching me.

"You'll not take us," I hissed at him. "Never."

"What was that?"

I shook my head and tucked the book under my arm. "Nothing. Let's get out of here."

* * *

 

Jauffre hurried down Cloud Ruler's steps towards me, saying, "Thank Talos you've returned safely. Do you have the Amulet?"

"No, damn it," I snapped as I stormed past him. "That s'wit Camoran escaped with it."

"Please tell me you have  _some_  good news!"

"I'm not sure if I'd qualify it as "good news," but…" I hesitated. "I have the Mysterium Xarxes."

That particular bit of information made Jauffre hesitate. "You have the actual Mysterium Xarxes with you?"

"Yes."

"You should take that to Martin right away. He'll want to know, I expect."

I expected he did as well. "Where is he?"

The Grandmaster let out a soft snort of laughter. "He'll be in the Great Hall, reading. He's hardly taken time to sleep since you left."

That struck some chord in me, but I shrugged it off. Taking long strides, I walked across the courtyard and into the Great Hall. I stopped just inside the door. Martin sat by the fire, nose firmly in a book. I couldn't help the soft smile that briefly crept onto my face. As I approached, he glanced up at me.

"Ah, you're back. I told Jauffre not to worry." Then his eyes caught on my face. Brow furrowing, he set down his book. "… I see you have bad news. You didn't recover the Amulet, did you?"

"No… but I have the Mysterium Xarxes."

"By the Nine!  _Such a thing is dangerous even to handle!_ " He shouted, jumping to his feet.

I took a hasty step back, heart pounding. I'm sure I must have gasped, because his expression quickly turned remorseful.

"Forgive me," he said softly. "You  _were_ right to bring it, but you'd better give it to me. I know some ways to protect myself from its evil power."

I pulled out the book and gingerly handed it to him. His hold on it was just as wary as he opened it. He frowned at the ever-changing words on the pages.

"Can the Xarxes lead us to Camoran?" I asked.

"I don't know. Maybe." He flipped through, running his fingers over the lines of daedric script. "I suspect that the secret of how to open a portal to Camoran's paradise lies within these pages…" He promptly closed the book and set it down on one of the hall's long tables. "But I will need time. Tampering with dark secrets, even just reading them, can be very dangerous. I'll have to proceed carefully. In the meantime, you should speak to Jauffre. He was concerned about reports of spies in Bruma."

I sighed. "It was only a matter of time."


	9. Spies

By the time I tracked down Jauffre again, he was in the east wing. He stood by one of the tables, leaning against it while several of the Blades were talking hurriedly to him. Even though I couldn't pick the words out from their hushed voices, I could clearly see the frustration on their faces. Whatever it was that they wanted, Jauffre wasn't giving in to it.

"Those are my orders, and they are  _final_ ," he said sharply, turning to them and rising to his full height.

"Grandmaster Jauffre?"

The Grandmaster shooed off the Blades who left, still resentful. Then he turned to me. I saw a kind of weary resignation is his eyes.

"You gave Martin the Mysterium Xarxes, then?" He asked me.

"Yes, sir. He believes it's the key to reaching Camoran and recovering the Amulet of Kings."

He shook his head slowly, wearily. "I hope Martin knows what he's doing with that evil book. I fear for what it could do to him if he's not careful."

I did too, but it wasn't the time for me to voice my concerns. Martin knew better than any of us what to do with the Xarxes. Besides, there were more pressing matters to attend to at the moment.

"He said you heard something about spies in Bruma."

"Ah, yes. I hope you can help. The gate guards have reported seeing strangers on the road for the past several nights. I cannot leave Cloud Ruler undefended while my men search the whole mountainside, but these spies must be eliminated."

"Don't worry about it. I'll deal with them."

"Thank you," he said, clearly relieved. "Talk to Steffan. He can tell you where he has seen them. Captain Burd in Bruma may also be able to help. I've asked the Countess to have the guard keep an eye out for strangers. Track down the spies and kill them. Find out what they know, and what they're planning, if possible. We can't afford to let the Mythic Dawn operate out of Bruma with impunity."

I left the library. The mountain air was getting colder as the sun began to sink deeper into the western sky. Steffan was out on the battlements, looking down at the forest below. He was tense, and radiated feelings of anger and frustration.

"Captain!"

He turned sharply towards me as I hurried over the wall to him.

"Fides. Is Jauffre sending you to take care of the… visitors?" He asked. When I nodded, his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. "Good. We always see them near the runestone at dusk. They aren't too woodcrafty, but Grandmaster Jauffre has forbidden us to range too far from the walls. But it seems that you have been given the freedom to attack the enemy that we all crave! Good luck. We will keep the Emperor safe here, don't worry."

"I wasn't."

They let me out, and I made my way down the road to where Steffan said they would be. Divines willing, I would stop whatever they were up to  _and_ make it out of there alive.

* * *

 

The spies were already at the runestone by the time I arrived. I'd taken a roundabout approach, climbing down the side of the hill about halfway down the road and into the woods. A chill wind whispered through the trees, shaking the branches and muffling my footsteps. I saw one of them walking around near the stone. A hood obscured their face. My bow was already out and I had an arrow nocked just in case it came to a confrontation.

As silently as possible, I slipped closer to the figure. I took another step forward. That was when the branch, hidden under a layer of needles, snapped in two. The spy's head snapped up and I saw a woman's face beneath the fur-lined hood. Her eyes fixed right onto me. For a moment, it looked like she was thinking about running. Then she snarled and shouted, "For Lord Dagon!"

"Shit."

I backed up several steps as she ran towards me and I fired my arrow at her, catching her in the chest before she had a chance to finish summoning her armor. She crumpled, the red and black mist she'd summoned evaporating around her back into the air.

As I Lowered my bow arm, I realized something was wrong. Spies. They'd said there were  _spies_. But I'd only seen the one. So where–

I heard the footsteps behind me too late. Before I could turn, someone wrapped an arm around my chest, pinning my arms in place, and held a dagger to my throat. I silently berated myself for being caught so easily. How in Talos's name had I been so  _sloppy?_

"You thought the last Septim heir was safe from us? You will pay with your blood, non-believer."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Whoever this other spy was, she hadn't cast on her armor yet. Good. That gave me an advantage. So I kept completely still as I asked, "Haven't you heard the news yet?"

" _Shut up,_ " she hissed.

"You haven't heard from anyone at the Shrine, have you? Know why? Most of them are dead."

Her hand with the dagger lowered ever so slightly from shock. It was only temporary, and I knew she wouldn't hesitate to kill me now, so I smashed my head back into her face as hard as I could. There was a loud  _crunch_. Her arms loosened enough for me to jab her in the stomach with my elbow. I twisted out of her grip, wrenched the knife from her hand, and slashed open her throat.

* * *

 

It was dark and snow had begun to fall when I reached Bruma's castle. The city guards had pointed me in its direction when I asked about Burd. The spies were dead, and I still had  _nothing_ about their plans. Hopefully if there was something in the city, he'd be able to help me find it.

The inside of the castle was cold, but it was warmer than it was outside and at least it was out of the wind. One of the guards approached me.

"What's your business here, ma'am?"

"I need to see Captain Burd. Tell him I work for Jauffre."

He nodded and left, exiting the main hall through a door on the right. I waited for several minutes, absently brushing the remaining snowflakes out of my hair and looking up at the Nordic carvings that decorated the tops of the tall pillars and the walls. As much as he hadn't liked to admit it, Da had done a lot to our house that reminded him of Skyrim. I remember he'd carved the beams with knotted designs that, like these, were decidedly Nordic in origin.

A man walked out of the side room. Like the guard from before, he was wearing the yellow uniform of Bruma. He, however, wasn't wearing a helmet. His dark, graying hair was slicked back away from his face.

"I'm Burd," he said. "Captain of the Bruma guard. I've been told you're from Cloud Ruler Temple. I'd guess you're here about the spies."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, except for Jearl coming back from a trip down south, things are pretty quiet," he said, rubbing the back of his neck and giving me a light shrug. "Not much travel right now with the Oblivion Crisis."

I cocked an eyebrow. "So that's what they're calling this?"

"Aye. I've told my men to keep a sharp eye out, but I've had no reports of any strangers in town. What about you? Turned up anything suspicious?"

"I intercepted two spies at the runestone below Cloud Ruler Temple. Unfortunately, I couldn't get any information from them. They're both dead. One of them had some keys on her, though, and I think they're to one of the houses in the city."

"What did she look like?"

"She was a Redguard woman. She had dark hair, cropped just below her jaw…"

His eyes widened. "Jearl? Gods' blood! So  _she_ was the spy? It seems there's no one you can trust these days." He shook his head and said, "Since you're working with Cloud Ruler Temple, I'm going to authorize you to search Jearl's house. I'll pass the word to my men. We won't interfere."

"Thank you, Captain."

I turned and swept out of the hall, back into the night.

The streets were dark and abandoned and it was snowing much harder than before as I walked down from the castle to Jearl's house. I kept my hood up, clutching it down to keep the wind and snow off my head as I cursed the wicked cold. It was times like those that I wished I was  _anywhere_ else but Bruma.

Jearl's house was is the far western part of the city. It was small, but fairly well kept, and made entirely of wood. I walked up the front steps and used one of the keys I'd recovered to unlock the front door. Inside, there were a few candles lit. Either they'd expected to be back by then, Jearl was trying to keep up the ruse, or both. I took one of the candles and started my search, checking inside the barrels near the door, under the bed, and picking the lock on the chest by the fireplace to check inside. Nothing. If I hadn't known that she was the spy,  _I_ wouldn't have suspected her.

That was when I heard the hollow sound the floor made when I walked over the rug. Curious, I knelt down, placing the candle on the floor, and pulled the rug back. Underneath was a trapdoor.

"Very sneaky, Jearl," I murmured as I unlocked it using the other key.

I pulled it open and climbed down onto the wooden crate that was set below. The room under the house was more of a small hall. A tiny room off the side had a bed which I suspected was for the other spy I'd encountered. At the end on one side was a door. On the other was a table with a copy of one of the  _Commentaries_ and a scroll. Orders, perhaps? I picked it up and read it.

_Jearl–_

_The master was pleased to hear of your activities outside of Chorrol. The more gates that we open, the nearer we are to the glorious Cleansing._

_The Master has chosen you and Saveri for a most crucial mission, a sign of your advancement through the ranks of the Chosen. We have learned that the Septim heir has gone to ground at Cloud Ruler Temple, the lair of the accursed Blades. The Master has made its destruction the top priority of the Order, and Lord Dagon has committed whatever resources are required._

_Pending your report on the Septim's activities at Cloud Ruler Temple, and your assessment of Temple defenses and possible routes of escape, we plan to open a Great Gate in the open ground before Bruma as soon as possible._

_Remember: the first three Lesser Gates represent only the preliminary stages of Great Gate Deployment. Do not in any way compromise your cover in defense of these gates. New ones can be quickly and easily reopened. And once the Great Gate is opened, the fall of Bruma is assured. Cloud Ruler Temple cannot stand long after that, and the Septim will be caught like a rat in a trap._

_We would welcome any further details you can offer concerning the Imperial agent who rescued Martin from Kvatch but again, we caution you... do not risk a confrontation. This individual is not to be trifled with._

_The Dawn is breaking,_

_Ruma Camoran_

They were planning on opening a Great Gate. Even with most of the members at the main shrine dead, they'd still be able to muster enough strength to do it soon enough. If they did, then the letter would be right; Cloud Ruler wouldn't stand a chance. I stuffed the letter into the pack at my hip. Jauffre needed to see it.

The trapdoor key unlocked the door behind me, which led into a set of drafty tunnels lit by flickering lanterns. I wondered how long these had been here, and whether anyone else knew about them. At the end was a rickety wooden door leading out into a cluster of snow covered trees and boulders. Looking behind me, I saw the city wall. A secret way in and out of Bruma. That's how they'd done it without the guards noticing.

I headed east, toward the main road back up to Cloud Ruler. My feet crunched over the snow. I shivered and wrapped my cloak tighter around myself as some of my loose curls blew in the wind. After several minutes of walking, I began to wonder if I shouldn't just go back, stay in Bruma for the night, and report to Jauffre in the morning.

"And where do you think you're going?"

I whipped around, my hand flying to the hilt of my sword. A man holding a bow stalked out from behind a boulder.

"If you know what's good for you," he said, "you'll hand over your money."

"And if you know what's good for  _you_ , you'll back off. Now."

"Brave words coming from a woman alone in the woods at night."

I drew my sword.

"I said  _back off_."

He fired. I tried to dodge the shot, but I was too slow. The arrow grazed my side. I winced and gritted my teeth. Now he was going to pay. I ran at him, snarling. When he tried to nock another arrow, I shoved his bow aside and swung at him so hard I nearly cut him in half. He fell back and lay there gasping for a few moments before going still. The snow all around his corpse was stained black.

Once I started to focus again, I realized that the wound in my side wasn't stinging anymore. I looked down at it. Other than the blood coating the skin and cloth around it, it wasn't bleeding anymore either. The skin was starting to look…  _blue?_  I hastily turned the corpse over and grabbed one of his arrows. Its steel tip was coated in some kind of blue, glowing substance that let off tendrils of white, frozen air. The arrows were coated in some kind of enchanted ice poison,  _and I was out in the cold_. I felt its power creeping up my side. Bruma was too far. Getting back to Cloud Ruler was my only chance.

I ran. The numbing feeling leeched down into my legs and up into my chest. I felt so cold. Even breathing was becoming difficult. I stumbled onward, forcing myself to take the next step even though my vision was getting blurry and I couldn't feel anything. Over and over I told myself that I had to make it back to the fortress, that I didn't have a choice. They had to know what I knew of the enemy's plans. I would  _not_ die out there in the woods.

I finally fell near the runestone. Even making it that far was a miracle. My legs wouldn't move, so I clawed my way forward with stiff arms across the frozen ground. I tried to pull myself up the runestone, but its surface was too smooth. The most I managed was to drag myself into more of a sitting position as I leaned against it.

"Help!" I shouted. My voice was hoarse and cracked. The second times I tried, barely any sound came out at all.

The howling wind was dulling in my ears and I soberly watched it whip my hair around in the darkness. White flakes drifted all around me. How long did I have left? Minutes? Probably not even that.

"Someone…  _please_ …"

I shuddered once and slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

 

I woke slowly as I adjusted to my surroundings. The first thing I realized was that I wasn't cold anymore. Someone had pulled me out of the snow and bundled me up in layers of warm blankets. I shifted a little and instantly regretted it. The wound in my side ached like it was badly bruised, and so did my head. I groaned.

"Here." A cup of something warm was pressed into my hands. I took a sip. Tea. I wrinkled my nose and opened my eyes to stare blearily at Martin.

"Got anything stronger?" I croaked.

He chuckled softly and shook his head.

"Damn." I let my head flop back against the pillows propped up behind me and stared at the ceiling. It didn't take me long to realize that we were in his room, and that I was in  _his_ bed. The knowledge put a knot in my stomach. I glanced over at him and noticed the weary look in his eyes.

"Martin?"

"Hmm?"

"How long have you been here?"

"Several hours." He sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I didn't want to leave you for long. The effects of the poison seem to be gone, at least. How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been shot." I took another sip of tea and almost gagged. "Gods, how do you  _drink_ this stuff?"

"It's good for you."

"Well, it tastes terrible."

I tried to give him the cup back. When he refused, I held onto it, grudgingly appreciative of the warmth seeping into my hands after the numbing poison and the cold. It felt nice, though I wasn't about to admit that.

"You weren't the one who went after me, were you?" I asked, eyeing him sharply.

"No, I wasn't."

I nodded as I tried to squelch the feeling of disappointment that settled in my chest. I should have felt  _happy_ that the man hadn't gone out of the safety of the fortresses walls.

My internal frustration was cut off when I heard him murmur, "Jauffre had to order me to stay here."

I stared blankly at him. "Are you serious?"

"I would have gone for you."

The earnest look in his eyes told me that he was deathly serious. I sucked in a sharp breath.

"Martin–"

"Oh good, she's finally awake."

My eyes snapped downward and I clasped my hands tighter around the cup as Jauffre walked into the room. He looked at Martin and nodded toward the doorway, where Baurus was waiting.

"Your highness, I would like to speak to Fides alone, if you please," the Grandmaster said.

Martin glanced between him and me. His brow furrowed. Still he nodded, glanced back at me once, and left the room.

"Now," Jauffre said once the door was shut, "What have you learned about the spies?"

"They had orders from Camoran to learn of Cloud Rulers defenses. They should be in my things. Did you–"

"We have them, yes."

"Jauffre, they're planning on opening a Gate, a  _Great Gate_ , in Bruma. That's why they were here."

He nodded. "It is clear that Mankar Camoran will soon bring all his power to bear against Bruma. I will warn the Countess of the danger. You did well, and for that we are all grateful."

With that he, too, left the room. Once he was gone, I put my face in my hands and took one shuddering breath after another.

_I would have gone for you._

Damn it, Martin.


	10. Rose

For several days I did what I had to: avoided Martin at all costs. It wasn't difficult. He hadn't yet been able to decipher much of the Mysterium Xarxes, and of that amount not nearly enough to need me for anything. The Blades moved a desk into the Great Hall and put it near the fireplace, and that was where Martin spent all of his time poring over that accursed book. I, on the other hand, made sure to stay outside as much as I could. Mostly I trained. Sometimes with Baurus, sometimes with the other Blades, and sometimes alone. It kept me out, and it kept me occupied.

I also kept a close watch on what was happening in Bruma. So far, there weren't any more signs of new spies and no Gates had opened nearby. They were still weakened from the fight at the shrine. I had no doubt that they'd be back, and soon, but for the moment Martin was safe.

"Mar. Focus," Baurus chided, swinging his sword in my direction.

I dodged the blow easily. "I am focused. Are you?" I swung around, avoiding his defense, and stopped my blow short, merely tapping him on the side of the neck. I smirked. "Dead."

He stepped back when I lowered my blade, frowning and rubbing his neck. "I'm still not sure how you do that."

"You try being an enemy of the Camonna Tong for eight years and see what it does to your focus."

"Mara!"

I glanced over to see Martin leaving the Great Hall and walking hurriedly towards us. I immediately tried to mumble a farewell to Baurus, but he hooked his elbow around mine and swung me back to stand next to him.

"What's gotten into you lately?" He asked.

"It's nothing."

He rolled his eyes and said, "Mar, if it was  _nothing_  you wouldn't be trying to bolt. It's just Martin."

"Exactly," I muttered, half-hoping he wouldn't hear. He did, and he gave me a quizzical look in response.

Martin finally caught up with us. He looked drained, but there was bright excitement in his blue eyes.

"What is it?" I asked him.

"I've made some progress with the Mysterium Xarxes, finally!"

Baurus finally released my arm. Bowing to Martin, he said, "I'm of more use elsewhere at the moment, your highness. Please excuse me." He left without another word.

"All right," I relented once Baurus was gone, "what have you found out?"

Breathless, Martin told me, "I've learned that the Mysterium Xarxes is both the gate and the key to Camoran's Paradise. In some sense, the book  _is_  Camoran's Paradise."

"How is that possible?"

"Mankar Camoran bound himself to the Xarxes when he created his Paradise, using dark rituals which I will not speak of further. A gate can be opened from the outside, however. It will be more difficult, as I will have to temporarily bind myself to the book. But I believe it can be done."

I stared at him for a good long while.

"Are. You.  _Insane?_ "

"What other choice do we have? I'm the only one who knows how," he said.

Frustrated, I asked him, "Is there anything  _else_  I should know about?"

"Yes. The Xarxes mentions four items needed for the ritual, but so far I have only deciphered one of them: the "blood of a Daedra Lord."" He sounded hesitant. "In fact, Daedric artifacts are known to be formed from the essence of a Daedra Lord, from whence they derive their great power. Not an easy thing to come by, obviously."

"Obviously," I echoed with a sigh. "Where would I even start looking?"

He explained, "The only way to obtain a daedric artifact is through the cults devoted to each of the Daedric Lords. The book "Modern Heretics" is the best introduction to daedric cults. The library here has a copy if you need it. Meanwhile, I will continue working to decipher the arcane items needed for the binding ritual."

I quickly found myself in the library, spending several hours going over the book Martin suggested. It detailed the cult that supposedly had a shrine of Azura somewhere in the northeast part of Cyrodiil. I didn't like it, but at least it seemed promising. That is, until I read where it actually  _was_. In the Jerall mountains, near Lake Arrius and the shrine of Mehrunes Dagon. If they hadn't abandoned it completely, they'd probably be prepared by now. It was likely they'd set up a trap for anyone who came back and started poking around in the area.

So  _that_  was out.

Where in Oblivion was I supposed to go?

* * *

 

Asking for rumors of Daedric shrines was difficult, especially now, but finding any feasible rumors was even harder. With Gates popping up all over, few people wanted to be openly associated with the Daedra, even the scholars who might have been more understanding before. Every single one of them was tight lipped about it. The handful of stories I did get led me west, where I wound up in Skingrad. I'd heard there was a shrine nearby, but I didn't know where it was or who it was  _for_. It was my only lead, though, and there was no way in Oblivion I wasn't going to do everything in my power to find it.

The Mages' Guild in the city was a dead end. Either no one there knew about the shrine or they weren't telling. I was at the point where I was almost certain I'd have to go out and search the surrounding area on foot, and that seemed like a very bad, if not extremely dangerous, idea. Leaving the guild, I headed back down the crowded street. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the city was bustling with people. I needed to get out and think of a new plan. Time was short.

I suddenly felt something being pressed into my hand. When I looked, I saw that it was a crumpled-up piece of paper. Whoever had slipped it to me was long gone, and the people around me in the street carried on with their business. Curiosity got the better of me and I quickly slipped out of the crowd. Once I was alone, I smoothed out the note. To my surprise, the entire thing was written in Daedric script. I frowned.

_You are looking for the Daedra. The Daedra are looking for you._

_My master is waiting._

Beneath the words was a hastily-scrawled map that I recognized as being of Skingrad and the surrounding area. North of the city was an X. A shrine? I didn't like it, but what choice did I have? I  _needed_  to find one of the Princes' artifacts, and that meant bartering with a Daedric Prince. That note might have been my only chance.

* * *

 

I waited until dark before taking the road north from the city. There was no one else around and the only sounds I could hear were those of my own footsteps. Once the road turned east I left it and continued north, out into the dense fields of grasses and soft-purple winter flowers. The fields soon melted into the woods and the trees concealed hills that I had to climb. I wondered for the hundredth time exactly which Daedra wanted me out here and, more importantly,  _why_.

Just when I was beginning to think that I was walking in circles, the woods broke at a large clearing. Numerous candles were set on boulders all around, dripping wax in long yellow tendrils. The statue of the Prince itself was massive, its gray stone worn from prolonged exposure to the elements. It depicted a large, horned man holding a tankard and resting one foot on a skull.

A small Bosmer man was the shrine's sole occupant. He was dressed in stained brown robes and his pointed ears stuck out from his thinning gray hair. When he saw me approach he gave me a grin.

"You came." He chuckled and gestured to the statue. "Come. Master Sanguine has been waiting for you."

I approached hesitantly.

"Ah, yes," a voice boomed from the statue. The words sounded drunkenly slurred. "The little mortal. I know what it is you seek, and I can grant it. In return I would have you perform a service for me."

"And what kind of service would that be, exactly?" I asked, crossing my arms and feeling more wary than ever.

The Daedric Prince let out a long, distressed sigh and said, "The Castle Leyawiin is a dull,  _dreary_  place. The mistress is an especially somber soul, and she's holding another pathetic excuse for a party. I want you to… liven it up. I'll give you a spell to use on the Countess and her guests that I think will make the party much more interesting. You should probably try to be inconspicuous. Or they might kill you. Oh, and the party is by invitation only. You'll have to find a way in."

Leyawiin? It would take me weeks to get there. "When is the party?"

"Now."

_Now?_  "You can't expect me to walk–"

The voice laughed. "Who said anything about walking?  _Have fun._ "

There was an explosion of light. When it faded I coughed and waved my hand to disperse the golden smoke that floated around me. It made my head spin, and I shook it to clear it before looking around.

I was  _not_  at the shrine. Instead, I was surrounded by buildings whose outside walls were painted in bright greens, oranges, and yellows. The air was hot and muggy. Lampposts lit the streets with flickering firelight. Ahead was the stone wall of a castle. Men and women in fancy clothing passed through the main doorway and into the brightly lit hall beyond.

Sanguine had not left me out in that regard. Oh no. He'd somehow magically dressed me in an exquisite royal-blue gown. The overskirt was slit down the front and embroidered with silver threads in winding, intricate swirls. Ropes of pearls and sapphires embellished the top of the bodice, formed a circlet and necklace, and served as a long belt that hung nearly to the ground. The wealth of gems on me made my head swim. My hair was pulled up into a nest of thick curls, leaving a few strands loose to frame my face. I was sure, with all of this, I certainly  _looked_  the part.

I just hoped the guest list wasn't too heavily controlled.

I followed the guests through the gate and toward the front door. A guard stood watch, checking every person that entered the castle's interior.

"What're you doing here?" He asked, barring my way. "I don't remember you on the list."

"I'm sure it must be some kind of mistake," I said in as smooth a voice as I could manage. Inside I was shaking. Getting into a confrontation with a guard went against every one of my instincts.

"I don't know who you are, and I'm not all that sure about you, but..." He looked me over and his wary gaze melted away with a sigh. "You're dressed for it. Can't imagine dressing up for any other reason. Go on in."

I flashed him a smile and tried not to hurry past him  _too_ quickly.

The entrance hall was made entirely of white stone. Tall, elegant columns were draped with green banners patterned with knotted designs or images of rearing yellow horses. Statues of grim, robed figures were set in alcoves along the walls. A black iron chandelier hung above a long green and gold carpet. A set of stairs led up to a short corridor and into the throne room. The crowd inside was huge, milling about both in the throne room and in the entrance. Every one of them was, on closer look, just as adorned as I was, all in jewel-toned finery.

The hostess herself wasn't difficult to spot. The Countess was dressed in an emerald gown trimmed with gold. Her hair cascaded around her shoulders in auburn ringlets. She had to be a few years younger than I was, but she held herself with an aloof sort of dignity.

I slipped through the crowd, trying my best to remain inconspicuous. It wasn't particularly hard, but I didn't want to take any chances. Sanguine said he'd given me some kind of spell to use on the guests. He'd told me no incantation, so I could only assume that he'd hidden it in written form somewhere in my dress.

The main floor of the throne room was taken up by guests dancing to a slow, stately tune, so I skirted around them and up to the abandoned balcony. There I found a small roll of paper that was tucked into my bodice. Unrolling it, I quickly scanned the Daedric writing written on it in such bold letters that the ink bled through. I frowned when I read the words  _stark reality_. Stark reality? What in Oblivion was that supposed to mean?

Crumpling up the paper, I closed my fist around it and squeezed my eyes shut, keeping the vision of the words in my mind. The power from the spell started to tingle against the inside of my palm. Somewhere in the distance, the chapel bells chimed for midnight. On the last stroke, I opened my fist and released the power.

The paper exploded in a shower of rose-red light. Screams echoed up from below as the glare of the light faded to reveal a crowd of entirely naked guests. Including me.

The Countess's eyes lifted to the balcony and fixed on me. "Get her!" Her face contorted as she shrieked and pointed at me. "Get her  _now!_ "

I ran, ripping open a nearby door and dashing through. From the sounds of boots on the flagstones behind me, the guards hadn't been affected by the spell. Of course not. I heard them follow me as I tore down the torch-lit stone halls, searching for some means of escape. Every turn just seemed to lead me deeper and deeper into the castle. Finally I found myself in a small room, lit only by what light that filtered in through the doorway. It was filled with a number of boxes and crates and nothing else. Worse, it was a dead end. At least I couldn't hear the guards anymore. They'd be there soon to look for me, I was sure of it. I crawled behind one of the boxes.

"Sanguine," I hissed, "now would be a  _really_ good time to get me out of here."

At first I was met with silence. Then a snide little voice asked in my ear, "What's the magic word?"

I scowled. "Please."

I closed my eyes as light flared around me. When I opened them I was once again at the shrine, kneeling in front of the statue. I got to my feet, crossing my arms and glaring angrily up at the carved image of the Daedric Prince.

"A rousing success, mortal! And it appears you joined in the festivities as well," Sanguine crowed.

"You didn't tell me that that's what the spell would do."

"And where would the fun in  _that_ have been? You need to lighten up. Don't worry; your boring old clothes are in the chest behind you."

I pulled it open and rummaged through as he continued to ramble. "Wasn't it fun, looking like a princess for even just a little while?"

"No."

"Ah, well. Your prince was in another castle anyway."

I stopped, halfway through pulling my shirt out of the chest. No. It was a coincidence. I tugged my shirt on over my head.

"I suppose you'll want something for your efforts. Here." A long wooden staff appeared in my hands once I finished dressing. It was carved like a rose, complete with long thorns that I made sure to keep my hands far away from.

"If that's it," I said, "then I'm going."

"Tell Martin I said hello, will you?"

I froze. Then I turned, feeling numb with shock, but the statue was silent and the candles were all dark.

* * *

 

Martin was, as I expected, in the Great Hall studying the Mysterium Xarxes when I returned to cloud ruler temple. I approached slowly, unsure. Sanguine mentioning him by name had thrown me off. The more I thought about it, the more deliberate Sanguine seeking me out seemed to be. I wasn't sure what to make of that.

"Martin… I've got one of the Princes' artifacts."

He set down the book and got to his feet. The smile he gave me was hesitant.

"Let's see it," he said.

When I unstrapped the Rose from my back and unwrapped it, all the blood suddenly drained from his face. He grew very still.

"Martin? What is it?" I asked, feeling worried.

He didn't answer me at first. Instead he stared, almost uncomprehendingly, at the staff in my hands. When he finally did speak, his words sounded broken. "I thought I'd sent you to the Shrine of Azura. How did you get this?"

"I couldn't go to her shrine. It was too close to Dagon's." That wasn't important right now, however. "You know this staff, Martin. How?"

His expression of numb disbelief didn't change. "I once possessed it, briefly… a lifetime ago, it seems now… To obtain it, and then give it up… I won't ask what you went through to obtain this, my friend."

No, but I wanted nothing more than to ask him what in Talos's holy name had happened to warrant the haunted look on his face.


	11. Duty

As the dust cleared, I heard the cries of relief from the guards that were waiting outside the Gate for us. I walked off to the side, away from the crowd that quickly swarmed forward to gather around Captain Burd.

"You did it, Captain! You closed the Oblivion Gate! We didn't think we'd ever see you alive again!"

"Believe me, it was no picnic," Burd said with a slight laugh. "But thanks to our friend here, I now know we can close these damned gates. We  _can_  defend Bruma!"

I wiped blood and ash from the corner of my mouth. Keeping the Captain and his two men alive had taken everything in me. It was getting harder; the Daedra were getting smarter and increasing their defenses. They were actually starting to take us seriously. That was what I'd been dreading.

"It was an honor to serve with you, ma'am," Captain Burd said to me once the rest of the guards dispersed. "Now that I've seen how it's done, I think my guardsmen and I can handle any new Gates that open near Bruma."

I gave him a long, sober look and nodded once. "I wish you all the best with that, Captain."

I left him and rode back from Bruma to Cloud Ruler Temple. Dagon had opened a Gate at Bruma, just like we'd been expecting for some time. I didn't know when they'd try again, but I was sure they would. They knew Martin was there, and they wouldn't stop until he was dead. The idea sent chills through me. Jauffre was right; there was nowhere in the world where he could be safe. I didn't even know how he felt about all of this.

After returning with the Rose, it was like a wall went up between us. We spoke rarely. Whenever I was near him the air somehow felt colder. I didn't know if he was just upset or actually angry at what happened. It didn't matter. I didn't push the matter, but I stayed nearby as often as I could. It was still my duty to protect him. But it wasn't what was outside the walls of the fortress that truly worried me: it was that book. He began to study it feverishly, spending all his days and nights poring over it. Even when I watched him from across the Great Hall, I could see the dark circles under his eyes and the lines on his face deepening. I swore his hair looked grayer.

And yet he still said nothing to me.

Belisarius took my horse to the stable after I rode back into the confines of the fortress. Jauffre was waiting for me outside the Great Hall. It was getting fairly late. He must have stayed up to speak to me.

As I walked across the courtyard, boots tapping against the flagstones, I thought about what Martin had said to me earlier. It was the first time we'd spoken at all in over a week. His voice had been calm, like nothing had happened.

_"_ _The second item is the counterpart to the first: the blood of a Divine. This was a terrible puzzle to me. Unlike the Daedra Lords, the gods have no artifacts, and do not physically manifest themselves in our world. How then to obtain the blood of a god? But Jauffre solved it. The blood of Tiber Septim himself, who became one of the Divines. This is a secret remembered only by the Blades, passed down from one Grandmaster to the next. Jauffre should tell it to you himself."_

I'd been called down to Bruma to assist Burd before I'd gotten the chance.

"So, Martin wants you to recover the armor of Tiber Septim?" Jauffre asked me when I stopped before him.

"Yes, sir. He does."

The Grandmaster sighed. "I wish there was another way. The Armor is in the Shrine of Tiber Septim, in the catacombs beneath the ruins of Sancre Tor. A holy place, once. But Sancre Tor became evil long ago. No one has returned from the Shrine of Tiber Septim for many lifetimes."

"What evil is it that lurks there, exactly?"

"I do not know. The four mightiest Blades of Tiber Septim's day, Alain, Valdemar, Rielus, and Casnar, went to Sancre Tor, and never returned. Here, this is the key to Sancre Tor's outer door. I fear I am sending you to your death, but we have no other choice. You must succeed."

He handed me and old key and left to turn in for the night. But, before he did, he looked at me seriously and said, "I'm worried about Martin. He does nothing but pore over that evil book all day."

I glanced at the door. "Is he in there now?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Oh, for the love of Talos… I take it you want me to go in there and talk to him?"

"You may be the only one who is able to get through."

That wasn't likely, given recent events. Still I nodded once, walked up the steps, and shouldered open the door. When I entered I immediately saw Martin. Books were scattered all over his desk and he flipped through them anxiously. Baurus leaned against the post behind him. The Blade caught sight of me and rolled his eyes.

I went to him first and asked in a hushed voice, "Has he been like this the whole time I was gone?"

"Pretty much."

"Jauffre told me to talk to him."

"I wish you luck with that," he said with a smirk.

"Thanks. Give me a minute with him, would you?"

Baurus hesitated. Then he sighed. "All right, Mar. I trust you, and you've already gotten him this far. I'll be over here if he needs me."

"Thanks again."

He mumbled something incoherent as he went over to sit on the other side of the room. I walked to stand behind Martin.

"How goes it?" I asked.

He actually turned away from his books to look up at me. "My progress with the Mysterium Xarxes is slow, I'm afraid. How goes your search for the armor of Tiber Septim?"

"Jauffre told me where to find it. I'll be off in the morning."

He nodded and went back to his work.

"Martin, you  _do_ know what time it is, don't you?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, it does." I bent down and said, "It's not healthy. You need your sleep."

"I  _need_ to translate this."

He was a stubborn fool.

I peered over his shoulder to look at his work and the open pages of the Mysterium Xarxes caught my eye. Martin had told me it was too dangerous, but I couldn't resist.

"Storm," I murmured.

"I'm sorry. What was that?"

"Right there. In the Xarxes. It says, "a storm.""

He practically tossed aside the book he was holding and grabbed the Xarxes. "Where?"

"The right-hand page. To the left and near the top. Yes, there." I reached over his shoulder to point at the word.

"By the Nine, it does." He looked back up at me. "I didn't know you could read the daedric alphabet."

I shrugged. "I can. At least, I used to. Most of the signs and things like that in Morrowind used it. Could this have something to do with the next item?"

"It might. But what could a storm signify? I don't think it's literal."

"A magical storm, maybe?"

He made a quiet  _hmm_  sound and looked back down at the page. "I'll have to give this some thought."

"Martin, I was serious when I said you needed sleep."

"I will, I will. But I'd like to work on this for a bit longer."

I knew I'd lost. "Fine. But not too long."

When he looked down slightly, I realized that my hand was resting on his shoulder and I quickly withdrew it. My fingers curled into a fist. Holding my hand against my chest, I mumbled a hasty " _goodnight_ " before turning on my heel and exiting the Great Hall.

I berated myself the whole way down to the armory. What was I  _thinking?_  He was the heir to Ruby Throne, and to all of Tamriel. I couldn't act like… that. It wasn't right! I dumped my things off in the corner and drew my sword. My mind was whirling too fast to even consider trying to sleep. So there I was, swinging my blade at the dummy, trying to practice the movements Baurus had shown me. Practicing helped calm my restless mind.

"You're getting better," Baurus commented sometime later as he walked into the armory.

I sheathed my sword and turned to face him. "There have been plenty of daedra to practice on."

"How many Gates have you closed now?" He sat down on the long table that ran down the center of the room.

"I've lost count."

"Of course."

He tossed something to me. A bottle. I caught it and looked at him with curiosity.

"Ale?" I asked.

"I figured some of us could use a drink."

I laughed and took a drink before sitting down beside him.

We sat there for a while talking, telling stories, laughing. Eventually I asked, "So, I take it his highness finally called it a night?"

"He did. Cyrus is watching his room."

"Good."

It was quiet for a minute or two before Baurus broke the silence to ask, "What's going on between you two?"

Something in my chest tightened. "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

"I'm just looking out for him, that's all," I said with a shrug.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and stared at me earnestly. "I've seen the way you two act around each other. Both of you are always dancing around your feelings. It's like you're always afraid that you might slip up and give yourself away."

"There's nothing to give away."

"Mar…"

"Look, I know how this ends, all right?" I said, pointing my bottle at him. "I'm not stupid. He's going to be the _Emperor_ , Baurus. I'm a thief, remember? I'm no one. I earned my way into that prison, and it was only by accident that I'm sitting here now. Besides, I have no chance. None at all."

"Mar… you love him, don't you?"

"No. I don't."

"You're in denial."

I turned my face away pointedly and said bitterly, "It's better to be in denial than to be hurt."

"If you say so." He took another swig from his bottle. "You should have seen his face when you left. For a minute, I actually thought he was going to follow you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Mhmm."

I took a drink. Had what Baurus said been true? Had Martin actually thought about halting his obsessive translation of that damned book… for me?

"See, this is what I meant," Baurus went on. "It's almost like a  _game_. I'm not sure whether it's funny or just sad." I glared at him and he shrugged.

"Fine, what do you think I should do?"

"I think that youshould think about what's really going on instead of just trying to shove it in a corner. You're going to have to face it sooner or later." He nodded and gave me an encouraging smile before he turned and left the room.

I stayed where I was and drained the rest of the bottle's contents. What did I feel? Did I feel anything? Was Baurus just reading into nothing? No, he wasn't. He was right and, damn it, I  _knew_ he was right. Did it change anything, though? No. I doubted Martin felt that way about me. Why would he? I was nothing but a thief, a Legion brat. Nobody. Besides, his actions lately had left me with little hope. Baurus was wrong about that much, at least.

I left my things in the armory and went outside, hoping that the cold night air would clear my head. I wrapped my arms around myself to ward off the chill and stared up at the starry sky overhead. Angry tears burned in the corners of my eyes. In the end, what was the point of any of this? I wasn't meant for these things. If I wasn't so honor bound to protect the man, I'd have left a long time before. But I was stupid. So stupid. I didn't deserve him. Why would he ever love me? What about me was there to love?  _Nothing_.

"Mara?"

I jumped. Whirling around, I saw Martin standing behind me.

"What do you need? Is something wrong? What happened?" I reached for my sword before remembering I'd left it in the armory. " _Damn it!_ "

"Would you just please calm down?" He asked, exasperated. "I'm  _fine_. And I don't need anything. I just… I just…" He knotted one of his hands in his hair in frustration. "…I just wanted to  _talk_ , that's all."

"You want to talk. Now. In the middle of the night. Why couldn't you have talked to me at any point in the last two weeks instead of acting like I didn't exist?"

The words rolled off my tongue before I could stop them, sharp and bitter. He stared at me. I realized what I'd done and I looked away, face flushing in shame.

"That was out of line," I whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Please, there's no need to apologize. If anyone should be sorry, it's me. You're right."

I didn't look at him. To be honest, I didn't know if I could.

"How did you find me?" I finally asked.

"I saw you from the window in my room."

"Couldn't sleep either?"

"No."

I nodded. The night wind whipped around me, stinging at my face.

"You're right about the Mysterium Xarxes," Martin told me quietly. "I can't escape it. It clouds my mind and haunts my dreams like nothing I've ever experienced. I'm starting to wonder if my warding spells will be enough."

"Then why keep going at all?" I asked. "I can read the writing. I could do it."

"I could never ask that of you," he whispered. "It has to be me. I'm the only one who is properly prepared to shield myself from the full effect of its power."

"You're too important to lose to that infernal book!"

My eyes had snapped back onto him and he looked at me then. His face was darkened by the faint light coming from the main building or the battlements, and I heard him say in a soft voice, "You do me too much honor. For who am I? The bastard heir of a dead Emperor."

"You think that matters to me? No. Whatever you think you are, what I am is so much worse."

"Is that so?"

I lifted my chin and looked him right in the eye. "Yes."

"You were a thief. That's not–"

"You think that's the only thing I've done?" I laughed coldly. "Do you know why I was in that prison in the first place? Do you?"

He shook his head slowly.

"When my father was killed, I thought all of the bandits died with him. I was wrong. What would the likelihood have been that the one survivor, my father's killer himself, was one of the first people I ran into when I got off the boat in the Imperial city? One in a million? More? He was there, strutting around with impunity. He knew who I was; I could see it in his eyes."

Martin stared at me, and I stared right back at him as I told him, "I don't remember what happened. I was just so _angry_. I couldn't see anything but Da dying in front of me. The next thing I knew, the guards were dragging me away. He was lying on the ground and there was blood everywhere. Do you know that I'm not even sorry? If that makes me some kind of a monster, so be it. I gave my father justice."

"Is that it?"

"What do you mean,  _"Is that it_ _?_ "?" I snapped. "I killed a man in cold blood. Is that not enough for you?"

"You aren't the monster you seem to think you are," he told me.

"Oh, really? As if you'd know anything about that."

"More than you can possibly imagine."

I crossed my arms. "Try me."

He glared at me, his blue eyes cold. "As a young man, I grew impatient with Mages Guild restrictions, as did many of my fellow apprentices. We threw ourselves into the riddles of Daedric magic. We hungered for forbidden secrets. Knowledge and power were our gods. You can guess the rest. People died. My friends died. And I was the instrument of their destruction."

"How?"

"The Rose is uncontrollable. Only a fool would attempt to wield it, a fool so blinded by his own lust for power that he could not see what he had done until he was the only one left standing among the dead."

He ran a shaking hand through his hair and started to pace back and forth. I watched him, frowning.

"When you returned with the infernal thing, I finally realized what I'd done. I'd sent you out there, alone, with no idea of what you were getting into. The Daedra are not to be played with, and I'd sent you off to bargain with one."

"I survived, didn't I?"

"And what about the next time?" He asked, stopping to face me. There was distress written on his face. "What about Sancre Tor? I keep sending you into more and more dangerous places."

"I'll survive them as well. You don't get it, do you?  _I can't leave_. Not even if I wanted to," I said, gesturing vaguely at my surroundings.

"And why, by Akatosh, would that be?"

"Because I'm in love with you, you fool!"

His eyes widened. I tensed, panicking, and clapped a hand over my traitorous mouth. Reckless. Stupid. I was such an idiot!

"Oh merciful Divines," I groaned, putting my face in my hands. "I'm so sorry. Forget I ever said that. I don't know what I was–"

"Mara."

I peered out at him from between my fingers. There was this odd, almost relieved look on his face. He reached out and wrapped his warm hands around my own and gently pulled them away from my face. I stared into his eyes. He didn't let go.

We stood there for what seemed like an age, unmoving. Then a smile broke across his face and he let go of one of my hands to brush a stray curl behind my ear.

In barely more than a whisper, he said, "I hadn't dared to hope that you might…"

I blinked, feeling numb with shock. Could I possibly be understanding him right? He… felt the same way that  _I_ …

"Neither had I," I breathed.

The way he looked at me in that moment was so powerful, and yet still so vulnerable. It was like he was looking right into me and saw everything, both good and bad, that was in my soul. But it was the trust, the utter trust in his eyes that caught me. He knew what I was. He knew  _everything_  that I was. Yet, somehow, he was willing to trust me with his heart. That was something that, Divines forgive me, was far more valuable than any amulet.

I felt him gently brush his thumb across my cheekbone. Then he slowly closed the distance and pressed his lips against mine. I closed my eyes.

He was hesitant at first, as if testing me. He was holding back, and suddenly I decided that I didn't want that. I pulled away and quickly closed in again, kissing him with all the strength I had. He responded immediately, taking me fully into his arms. My heart thundered in my chest.

It was a strange thing; I'd never really paid much attention to my heart before. But at that moment it felt like it was full to bursting. All I could feel was its incessant, rhythmic pounding and him.  _Him_. Every place that we touched felt like it was on fire. I was burning, but I was alive. It was like he was the sun. I yearned towards his love, his light, his warmth. I needed him. I'd never needed anyone before in my life as much as I needed him then. And I wasn't afraid. Not of him, and not of what I was feeling. Not then.

* * *

 

I lay against Martin's chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. He reached up to stroke his fingertips up and down my spine. Both of us were silent.

As comfortable as I was, I still had responsibilities, so I slowly climbed out of the bed. I needed to find my clothes…

"Mara? Where are you going?"

I looked back over my shoulder. Martin was sitting up, watching me.

Smiling a little, I said, "The barracks. I've still got some time to sleep before I have to leave."

"Did I do something wrong?" He asked me quietly.

"Of course not! You were  _amazing,_ Martin. I–"

That was when I noticed how despondent he looked, his brow furrowed in worry and doubt. It finally dawned on me why.

"You… You want me to stay?" I whispered, not even daring to believe it. My heart twisted in a way that was almost painful. When he nodded I looked away, rubbing my bare upper arm. Neither Gan nor Sottilde had wanted me to stay afterward, so I'd never even  _considered_ that he might…

Glancing back up, I saw the look of understanding that had appeared on his face. Slowly he held his hand out to me, palm up. It was an invitation, not a command. It was a choice that I could make for myself.

New and strange as it was, I knew what I wanted.

I walked forward and crawled back onto the bed. Reaching out, I wrapped my fingers around his, squeezing them slightly. He smiled and pulled me in closer to kiss my mouth. Then he murmured against my lips, "I want you. I promise."

I heard the unspoken truths behind his words. He wanted me, even if no one else had. He wanted  _me,_ and not as a distraction.

"I love you," I breathed.

Martin smiled. We lay down together and he pulled the blankets up over us for warmth. I draped my arm over his chest, feeling his own arms encircle me. It felt so comfortable to just lie there with him. There was no tension, just… peace.

"Goodnight, darling," he said, kissing my hair.

I nuzzled my face against his shoulder. "Goodnight…"


	12. Septim

I jolted awake to the sound of a gasp. Sitting up sharply, I brushed back my hair and looked around. Martin lay beside me, his blue eyes wide as he stared at something I couldn't see. His chest heaved. I leaned down and anxiously smoothed the strands of brown hair away from his face.

"Hey. Shh. You're all right," I whispered.

He took several deep breaths to steady himself and turned his gaze on me.

"Sorry," he mumbled as he gave me a weak smile.

"Why're you sorry?" I lay back down in the crook of his arm, resting my head on his shoulder. "Was it that damned book again?"

"Yes."

"What happened? I mean, what did you see?"

With a note of restraint, he said, "It's trying to tempt me."

"Tempt  _you?_ " I laughed. "With what?"

When he didn't respond I looked up. There was a somber look on his face as he stared up at the ceiling.

"What is it?"

"I would not burden you with that as well," he said softly.

Whatever it was, it had him worried. As if he was worried that he would give in to what he had seen. It certainly looked that way. I shook his shoulder, trying to knock him out of the restless state he was in.

"I won't let them touch you, do you hear me? I won't let them."

"They will try again soon enough."

I snorted. "Let them  _try_. Let them come. I'll destroy every one of them myself."

"Where would I be without you?" He murmured.

"Dead, probably."

He laughed and I felt him kiss my hair. "You're right."

I smiled and closed my eyes. In that moment, I I could almost forget that there  _was_  a world outside of his embrace. For the first time in years I felt that warmth that I associated with home. In that moment, lying in his arms, everything was perfect.

But then the world caught up with me once more and my perfect moment was over. I opened my eyes and sat up.

"I should go," I told him as I crawled out of the bed. The wooden floor was cold under my bare feet as I pulled my clothes on. Outside the window, the sky was turning the pale pinkish-gray of dawn. "That armor isn't going to find itself, and it's no short distance to get there."

"You could stay."

I turned. He was still in the bed, sitting up and watching me. I finished lacing one of my bracers as I walked over to him.

"We could figure out another way to acquire it, one that doesn't mean you'll go in there alone. I still don't like the thought of you–"

I stopped him with a finger to his lips. Kneeling down, I put a hand on his shoulder. As I looked into his eyes, I could see his anxiety there. He always was a worrier.

"This is what I do, remember?" I reminded him. In a soft voice, I continued, "I'll be back before you know it. I'll always come back. Nothing can keep me from you forever."

He kissed me then. It was a promise, a promise that I'd come back and that he'd wait for me until I did. Gods, I was going to miss him when I was gone. I always did. I savored every moment that the kiss lasted, which was all too short. Our lips parted and I got to my feet. Giving him one last smile, I turned and walked out the door. I would not say goodbye. It wasn't goodbye. I would be back soon enough. I'd promised him, and I would hold myself to that promise. No force on Nirn or in Oblivion would stop me. No Man, Mer, or Daedra could keep me from him.

* * *

 

I took the road north from Chorrol, through the woods and up into the mountains, over rickety wooden bridges spanning deep chasms and through forgotten ruins. The trees eventually gave way to snow and bare gray rock. There the road, broken and overgrown from disuse, led down the mountain into a small, secluded valley. I rode my horse down into the valley and picketed her outside Sancre Tor's outermost walls.

The ruin was massive. Broken walls and crumbling towers covered the landscape. Pines grew between them in sparse groups, their needles dusted white with snow. In the middle of the ruin, the keep seemed relatively intact. I made my way toward it with caution. The whistle of the wind and the crunch of my boots over pine needles and frost were the only sounds. Still, there was a sinister air about the place. A…  _wrongness_. Whatever the evil was that Jauffre had warned me about, I could certainly feel it. Inside the keep was a massive wooden door. I used the key the Grandmaster had given me to unlock it and, with effort, managed to pry it open and slip inside.

The interior of Sancre Tor's fortress was dark, damp, and cold, so cold that I could clearly see my breaths coming out in soft white tendrils that looked almost like smoke. The only light came from pale, dim flames in the sconces that cast strange shadows on the walls. More than once I thought I saw someone moving in the darkness at the edges of my vision. I drew my sword and tried to ignore the anxious feeling that crept up and down my spine.

Down I went, further and further into the ruin. Ancient statues loomed at me out of the shadows. I heard nothing and saw even less. Then there was the creaking of old bones. I froze halfway up a set of stairs to listen. Nothing. Then it came again, along with the clanking of metal and a low hissing sound. It was close. Adjusting my grip on my sword, I finished climbing the stairs.

A skeleton lumbered about on the landing around one of the pale fires, its sword arm dragging and its helmet rattling back and forth on its skull. As soon as I reached the top stair it stopped. Slowly, it turned its head to face me, its teeth bared at me in a permanent grimace. Then it screamed.

I did what any sane person would do: I ran. Taking the stairs three at a time, I stumbled down and raced back through the halls, all the while listening to the clanking and rattling of the skeletal warrior as it followed. I wasn't going to lose it. It knew the place far better than I did for me to even stand a chance. I stopped, whipping around and bringing up my sword in time to block the skeleton's strike. Then I smashed my boot into its kneecap. It made a loud  _crunch,_ and the skeleton's leg gave way and sent it crashing to the floor. The rattle of the bones hitting the ground echoed off the walls and deep into the shadowed recesses of the ruin.

Before I even had time to catch my breath, a translucent figure materialized before me, standing over the fragments of the corpse. The figure was tall and imposing, garbed in what looked like Blades' armor. He gazed solemnly down at me with empty eyes and nodded slowly.

"At long last… you have freed me," he sighed in an echoing, hollow voice. "Now I can finally complete my lord's last request."

I finally lowered my sword slightly. "Who are you?"

"I was Rielus, loyal Blade of Emperor Tiber Septim. I do not know how long I have been dead. It feels like an eternity."

"What happened to you?"

"My three companions and I were sent here by the Emperor Tiber Septim to discover what evil had defiled the holy catacombs of Sancre Tor. We did not know that the Underking, who was Zurin Arctus, had arisen to take his first revenge upon his former lord. The Underking defeated and ensnared us in his evil enchantment, and bound us here to guard forever the defiled Shrine of Tiber Septim."

"The Underking… is he still here?"

"No. He departed long ago. But his evil still remains, preventing any from paying homage at the Shrine of Tiber Septim. Over the uncounted years of our slavery here, we have brooded over our defeat. I believe that we can undo the Underking's evil magic. I go now to complete my duty to my lord Tiber Septim. Free my brothers, and together we may be able to lift the Underking's curse."

He walked away slowly, further into the ruin. I followed, sword at the ready, waiting for whatever his possessed brothers-in-arms would throw at me.

* * *

 

When they were all free the four ghosts collected in the final tomb at the very bottom of Sancre Tor. Coffins in niches lined the walls of the main chamber. Ahead was a tunnel, its walls rough. An eerie blue glow blocked the way. One by one, the ghostly Blades kneeled before the tunnel. The walls rumbled. With a roar, the glow dispersed in a rush of wind. I covered my face with my arms to block it as it washed over me. It stopped quickly, leaving the tunnel open. I could see some kind of light at the end. None of the ghosts moved, so I walked toward it alone.

At the end was a small chamber, bare save for a stone slab at its center. On it was a suit of armor made from what seemed like ebony and gold. When I picked up the helm, it was far lighter than I'd expected. It was covered with a coat of dust, but seemed undamaged. With some effort I collected all the pieces and carried them back down the tunnel. The Blades were waiting for me, all of them standing in a solemn line.

Rielus stepped forward. "We have fulfilled our last duty," he said. "We go now to Aetherius without shame. Farewell."

As one they turned and walked towards the door, vanishing into mist and darkness. I adjusted my hold on the armor so that I wouldn't drop it and hurried back out of the ruin toward home.

* * *

 

When I returned to Cloud Ruler, I was met with a crowd of silent Blades in the courtyard. At first I was terrified that something had happened. My thoughts immediately jumped to Martin. Had he been hurt somehow? That was when I realized that the reverent silence that covered them was for the armor I was carrying. They'd all come out, every last one of them, to see the arrival of the relic of Talos. I held it up a little higher and my arms felt stronger when I thought of how proud my Da would have been of me.

Catching sight of Martin standing on the stairs in front of the Great Hall, waiting for me, I picked up the pace and strode toward him through the crowd with my head held high. At the bottom of the stairs I went down on one knee and held out the armor to him.

"You don't need to kneel to me," he said, pulling me to my feet.

"I was trying to be formal. Now, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help me with this? It's not exactly light, you know."

He laughed and lifted the cuirass from my arms. His gaze roamed over it with interest. "The Septim blood may flow through my veins, but you have the soul of a hero. The Armor of Tiber Septim himself! You can reassure Jauffre that I will not destroy the armor. All I need is a scraping of Talos's divine blood. The Blades are as touchy as priests about relics of Tiber Septim, it seems!"

I rolled my eyes. "Where is the Grandmaster?" I asked.

"He said something about a meeting with the Countess of Bruma."

"I'm sure I'll find out later," I said. "Let's go inside; it's freezing out here."

When I opened the door, he immediately went to clear a space on his desk for the armor. The clutter only seemed to have gotten worse; piles of books covered not only the desk, but a nearby table and quite a bit of the floor around it. Stacks of parchment also littered the area, all of them smothered in ink scrawlings and notes.

I brushed the dusting of snowflakes out of my hair. Taking off my cloak, I draped it over the back of one of the chairs. As soon as I removed it I started shivering.

"I always forget how cold it is here. I don't know how you stand it."

He didn't look up from rearranging the stacks on the desk as he replied, "I've learned to live with it."

"All right." I walked over to him and crossed my arms. "What's your secret?"

He straightened slowly and turned to gaze at me with those soft blue eyes. "I think of you."

I stared at him and my arms slid down to hang limply at my sides. He took my hands, holding them tightly between his own, and lifted them up to brush his lips across my fingers. I smiled.

"You don't know how much I missed you," I said.

"Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea."

I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of me. Soon we were both laughing. It was nice, so nice, to just be there with him. In that moment, there was nothing in the world I had to do. Closing my eyes, I leaned my forehead against his. I kissed him a moment later and marveled at the love and the warmth I felt when he kissed me back. I'd always thought that I was nothing, but Martin didn't. He saw  _something_  in me that was worth his love. Right then I might have just started to believe him.

The door to the hall burst open. I jumped back, whipping my head around to catch sight of the intruder.

"Sorry for interrupting, sire," Baurus said in a harried voice. "I have a message from Jauffre."

Martin cleared his throat and released my hands. "Very well. What is it?"

The Blade shook his head. "It's not for you; it's for  _her_."

"Me? What happened?"

"The Grandmaster requested you meet him immediately. It seemed important."

"All right Baurus. Tell him I'll be there in a minute."

The Redguard nodded and shut the door behind him. When I turned back to Martin he had a worried frown on his face.

"Oh, now Martin, don't. You know I have to do this."

"I know, but you just got back."

I sighed and reached up to brush my hand over his cheek.

"I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it. The Mythic Dawn, though… they're still out there. The sooner this is all over, the better off everyone will be. And if that means I have to go…"

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.

"May the Divines guide you, my love," he murmured as he kissed my cheek.

When he stepped back, I turned away and walked straight toward the door, grabbing and throwing on my cloak as I strode past. I pulled open the front door to the Great Hall and had to brace myself against the blast of cold wind that hit me and whipped my hair around my face before fully stepping out into the frigid air. Baurus was waiting for me.

"I said that I was coming. Was there something else Jauffre wanted?"

He shook his head.

"Then what is it?"

I noticed the smirk that slipped onto his face an instant too late.

"So, did you and Martin–"

"By the Nine!" I pointed at him and said firmly, "I won't tell you anything, do you hear me?"

"Mar, you're blushing."

"I am  _not!_ "

"Your face is as red as your hair," he told me through his laughter.

I stomped away, seething. I could hear Baurus's chuckles slowly subsiding as we neared the Grandmaster where he waited by the stairs.

"Good, you're here," he said to me with a nod. "I've spoken to the Countess. She's worried about the safety of her city."

"I understand, sir. We all are. What does this have to do with me?"

"The Countess believes her guards can hold off the Gates for now, but the Bruma Guard cannot defend the city indefinitely," he explained, clasping his hands behind his back. "The daedra of Oblivion are innumerable; the guardsmen of Bruma are not. We need to gather what allies we can before Bruma is hopelessly besieged. If the Mythic Dawn manages to open a Great Gate here, the city will need a stronger garrison for there to be any hope of defending it. Therefore, I'm sending you to speak to the rulers of the other cities of Cyrodiil, as well as the Elder Council. Ask them to send aid to Bruma before it is too late."

"But… why me, sir? Surely there's  _someone_ else who would be better suited for this than me." The thought of having to deal with all of those nobles was almost frightening. I wasn't always able to be the most… tactful of people.

He gave me a sharp look. "You may be right, Fides, but out of everyone here, you have the most experience with the Gates into Oblivion. If it comes down to dealing with them, which it might, you are the most likely to survive. Understand?"

There was silence. I broke it, nodding and saying, "Yes, sir."

"Good. Report back to me when you've acquired what aid you can."

He left me, walking away onto the battlements. I let out a long, shuddering sigh. There hadn't even been time to unsaddle my horse, and there was no sense in wasting any more. I led her back out of the stables and towards the gate. It wasn't even late yet. The further I got today, the sooner I'd get the aid Bruma needed so desperately. Behind me, I heard doors opening and hurried footsteps. I looked back over my shoulder. Martin stood on the front step of the Temple's main hall, his face anxious and terribly confused. I nodded to him and tried to smile. I saw his shoulders straighten, even as the lines on his brow deepened. I turned back and forced myself to walk away down the stairs and away from him.


	13. Alliance

I went to the Imperial City first. I thought that maybe if I had the support of the Elder Council, the Counts and Countesses might be more willing to lend their aid. Once I was in the city walls, I headed straight for the Palace.

It was just as austere inside as it was outside. The halls of the bottom floor were subdued and cold. Dim lantern light flickered up into the arched marble ceiling. The floors that let off echoes with every step you took were set with the Imperial Dragon crest in blood-red stone. A pair of guards in gilded silver armor flanked every door. Wherever Chancellor Ocato was, I was sure at least one of them could point me to him.

I quickly learned it wasn't going to be that easy.

"I need to speak with the Elder Council. Please, it's important."

The guard who I'd spoken to gave me a tired look. "The Elder Council chambers are closed to the public for the duration of the emergency."

Emergency. The Crisis. The reason I was there.

"Fine. But, please, I need to speak to Chancellor Ocato, or… or  _someone_."

"Chancellor Ocato isn't seeing any visitors."

Before I could argue again the door the guards were posted at swung open and an Altmer in red and gold robes walked out. The guards made a slight bow as the mer passed and murmured, "Chancellor."

Chancellor Ocato, right there. It was my one chance.

"Chancellor Ocato!" I made to run after him, but the guards grabbed me by the arms and pulled me back. I tried to shake them off while I shouted after the mer, "I'm from the Blades! Jauffre told me to speak to you! It's important!"

He stopped, turned on his heel, and hurried back toward me with a look of concern.

"From the Blades, did you say?" He asked me. "Jauffre sent you? What's this about? Quickly, now."

I tugged my arms out of the guards' now slack grip and straightened myself out before delivering my message to the Chancellor.

"Bruma has been the target for increasing attacks by the daedric hordes. Neither Countess Narina Carvain nor Grandmaster Jauffre believe they can hold the city for long. They fear that Bruma will suffer the same fate as Kvatch."

"This is  _terrible_  news. Under normal circumstances, I would dispatch a legion or two to Bruma immediately."

I could hear the "but" before he said it, and my heart sank.

"But the circumstances are not normal, are they?" He asked. "No. I've been pleading for troops for Cyrodiil for weeks, but General Alora Warhaft assures me that the entire Imperial Army is already fully committed. Besides, I'd have a full-scale political crisis on my hands if I tried to pull any troops out of the provinces. I'm sorry, but the cities of Cyrodiil will have to fend for themselves for the time being."

I was suddenly struck with the image of what would happen if Bruma were left to fend for itself. The city would fall. Cloud Ruler would fall. And Martin…

"Isn't there  _something_  you can do?" I asked, heart pounding.

"As I said, I am truly sorry. Please excuse me. I have things to attend to."

"But–"

The guards grabbed me again, dragging me back as I was forced to watch Ocato walk away. I felt my face grow hard. The Chancellor wouldn't help me? Fine. I'd get an army, no matter what it took.

* * *

 

I tugged on my hood to make sure it kept off the rain as I trudged up the hill just outside of Cheydinhal. It had been pouring for hours, and the ground had turned to little more than mud. I was the only one around. Everyone else was inside the city walls. I'd seen the smoke and flames coming from over the hilltop and known why; there was a Gate up there.

My observation proved true when I reached the top. A Gate belched fire, the flames instantly sizzling out when the rain hit them. Guards were stationed all around it. One of them broke away when he noticed me.

"I'd keep away from here if I were you," he said. "It's not safe."

I shrugged and kept walking. "I'll take my chances."

"You know how these things work?"

"Unfortunately."

He peered a little closer at my face. "Are you who I think you are?"

"Probably," I told him, rolling my eyes. "Tell me what happened here."

"Right. About two days ago Count Indarys's son, Farwil, entered the Oblivion Gate with six other men. We haven't heard from them since then. The Count fears the worst, and has posted guards here so we can watch and see if anyone comes back out. So far, nothing."

Not a surprise. A frontal attack? It would never work.

"At this point, Count Indarys is offering a reward for the recovery of his son from inside the gate…" He stopped, looking uncomfortable, before adding, "…or confirmed news of his demise. If you find him or the rest of the Knights of the Thorn, please get them out of there."

"I'll do what I can."

"I'm sure that the Count would also be pleased if the Gate was closed."

"Of course he would. If I'm going to find Farwil, I need to know exactly who I'm looking for."

"He's a Dunmer, and he's wearing steel plate armor. His shield should bear the crest of the Knights." He laughed bitterly and finished, "nothing but the best for the Count's son."

Seven men in full plate, charging in without knowing what lay beyond the portal. I shook my head at the stupidity of it all. If they were dead, it was their own damn faults, but this was a mess that I had to fix.

"Right," I said, rolling my shoulders. "If he's still alive, I'll find him."

I drew my bow and stepped once more into Oblivion.

The Gate led onto a long, winding path. Only a few feet away one of the Knights lay in a pool of his own blood. Little good all that armor had done him. I stepped around his body and slunk down the trail. It twisted through narrow canyons where I could hear the sound of falling rocks echoing from somewhere in the distance. I knew I was on the right track. There was a blood trail, from man or mer I did not know, that led down the path.

At the end of the canyon, it led me into a cave and down through a hole in floor. There was another knight at the bottom. Unlike the first, his armor was torn like it was no more than paper. I stared at him for a moment with a sinking feeling in my stomach. The likelihood of finding the Count's son alive, let alone in a single piece, was getting lower by the second.

* * *

 

"It's about time someone got here. What took you so long?"

I'd just stepped out of the tunnels when two armored figures popped out from behind some rocks ahead. The speaker was a Dunmer. His long, dark hair was mussed and his fancy armor was smeared with blood. There was no doubt in my mind who he was, and that made it all the more frustrating. Just looking at them I could tell those two men were no fighters.

"You're the Knights of the Thorn?" I asked incredulously. I hadn't been expecting much, but…

Farwil puffed himself up and said in an imperious voice, "We are knights sworn to uphold the laws of Cheydinhal. We fear no being, and we strike fast and true as lightning. Our enemies quake at our approach, and falter at our charge. Huzzah!"

Divines protect us.

"I set out with the rest of the knights to dispatch this blemish on the face of our fine world. When we arrived, we were overwhelmed. I myself was able to kill perhaps two score of them, but they just kept coming. Only Bremman and I remain alive. However, with you here now, we can take the Sigil Stone from that citadel and complete our quest for the good of all Cheydinhal! Huzzah!"

"Stop saying that. Now, let's get you out of here."

Farwil grabbed my arm, looking livid. "Are you mad? A Knight of the Thorn never returns home until the mission is done. It's our way. Now, in my father's name as Count Indarys of Cheydinhal, I order you to lead me to that Sigil Stone! Onward and upward! Huzzah!"

"Say that one more time," I snapped, "and I don't care  _who_  your father is. I'll make you wish you'd never been born. Now  _move_."

I led them toward the tower, keeping a lookout for any daedra lurking about. Farwil's companion shivered.

"Strange," he said, "with all the lava you think I'd feel warm. But all I feel is a bone-chilling cold. Perhaps it's fear."

I nodded. "You're right to be afraid of this place. It never gets any better."

"You've been here before?"

"Yes," I told him bluntly so he'd know I wanted the issue dropped.

He seemed to understand, saying instead, "I'm sure you wish to hear the real story rather than Farwil's version."

I nodded again.

"Not long after the gate opened, Farwil decided an assault was in order. We charged inside, and promptly met resistance. Three of us were cut down in the first wave. We pressed on, at Farwil's behest. At the base of the citadel, we met a larger second wave of foes. We lost two more in that skirmish, as well as Farwil and I being wounded badly. It was at this point we considered retreat. We found the way back blocked by more daedra. So we were stuck here until rescued by you."

The Knight, Bremman, shook his head. "It's just like Farwil to leap before he looks. Had we brought a City Watch contingent, we might have taken the sigil stone with minimal losses. Instead, Farwil wanted to prove his point. The City Watch and the Knights of the Thorn are always at odds. They think we don't have what it takes, and Farwil wanted to show them. Perhaps we were all to blame. But that's not important right now. We must complete our journey and get that stone. Please... help us."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't have much choice, now do I?"

"I suppose not."

"No. And bringing the entirety of the city watch wouldn't have helped. Facing the daedra head-on doesn't work. They're expecting it."

"Then what does?" He asked, confused.

I nocked an arrow, aimed, and fired, hitting the Dremora guard standing before the tower squarely in the face. With a smirk, I turned to the Knight.

"Surprising them."

* * *

 

"We made it," Farwil gasped, looking around at the soggy ruins of what remained of the Gate. When I glanced in his direction, he quickly backtracked. "Err, I mean... victory is ours once again! Huzzah!"

It was too late to kill him, unfortunately. The guards were already coming to see what had happened. The Captain headed right for me, glancing around with surprise.

"I never thought it possible," he whistled.

"Oh, it's possible. Very, very possible."

The rain was slowly drizzling out. A few drops fell on my face, and I wiped them away. Farwil clanked over and stood as tall as he could in his battered plate.

"I wouldn't have expected such bravery from someone who isn't a Knight of the Thorn," he said. "Since you have led us to victory, I am hereby giving you the honorary title of Knight. Your name shall be revered and your deeds placed into song to be performed–"

"Save it," I told him. "I don't need any songs."

I left the site of the ruined Gate, and the Captain led me into Cheydinhal. The people who passed us on the streets seemed nervous and gave us odd looks as we passed. I supposed that was mostly because of me: a strange woman covered in dirt, blood, and soot. I ignored their gazes, focusing on the city instead. It reminded me so much of Mournhold. Stone, wrought iron, and cold glass windows. Steepled purple roofs. The biggest difference was the Chapel that towered over everything. I smiled ruefully. It would have been nice to have had one of those when I was there.

The great hall of the castle was like a forest; there were plants everywhere you turned. Small trees, bushes, flowers of all colors. Even the thrones were carved with knotted patterns and flowers. A lone bouquet of yellow blossoms rested on one. The Count waited for me with an expectant look from the other. He was a proud-faced Dunmer dressed in blue and gold. His expression was neutral, but his eyes held a deep sadness.

"This woman closed the Oblivion Gate, you Lordship," the Captain told him.

The Count looked me over and nodded. "I'm pleased to meet the savior of Cheydinhal," he said to me. "I'm also overjoyed that you saved my son's life. I realize he's trying at times, and he speaks before he thinks, but he's still my son and I adore him greatly. I'm sure he was difficult to travel with, and I respect your patience."

"Thank you, my Lord."

"Most would have given him up for dead rather than deal with his ego." He waved one grey hand. "But I digress. I'm sure you wish to hear of your reward."

"My Lord, there is only one reward I want. And it's not for me."

His expression turned cautious. "Very well. What is it?"

"Gates have been opening regularly outside of Bruma. Their City Guards have been holding off the daedric hordes, but are uncertain how long it can last. I don't want to see Bruma end up like Kvatch. If you could just spare a few men…"

"Say no more. I will not forget your service to me and to the people of Cheydinhal. Rescuing my son from the Oblivion Gate was a daring feat. With it closed, I will gladly send aid to Bruma."

I nodded, barely biting back an elated laugh. "Thank you  _so much_."

"No, it is I who should be thanking you. I thank you on behalf of all the citizens of Cheydinhal, and I especially thank you as an elated father. Farewell, and may Arkay guide you."

* * *

 

For a month I trekked all over Cyrodiil, begging for reinforcements from the other cities. The Counts and Countesses always seemed more than happy to lend aid once they were sure their own cities were safe… which meant that I had to dive headlong into Oblivion over and over again. Why Jauffre had sent me was quickly becoming clear. It was hard to keep myself going when I knew that I would have to go into that damned place nearly every other day, but I did. I had to. Everyone was counting on me.

Kvatch was one of the last I stopped at, and I hesitated to even try. They'd already lost so much. I went anyway, expecting nothing.

The refugees had moved out of the camp and back into what was left of the city. Much of the rubble was cleared, and I could see that some repairs had already begun. It was better than the last time I'd been there, at least: nothing was on fire. When I asked who had been put in charge I was directed to Savlian Matius. The Captain of the Kvatch Guard was in the square, directing repairs from near the statue. When he caught sight of me as I walked over to him he looked surprised.

"I didn't think I'd see you back here," he said.

"Neither did I. If situations were different, I probably wouldn't be. Repairs seem to be going well, though."

The Captain looked around, frowning. "Not as well as I would like. But it's better than nothing. By the way, I never did catch your name last time."

"Mara Fides."

"So it is you who's been closing gates all over. I thought it was."

"Who else?" I sighed.

"Now, what are these "circumstances?""

"The Mythic Dawn has been targeting Bruma, trying to open a Great Gate like they did here. They haven't succeeded yet, but it's getting close. I've been requesting aid from the other cities. So far everyone except for Chancellor Ocato has agreed to help. I can understand why you wouldn't want to send any of your men. It's asking too much."

"Nonsense. I have few enough men to spare, but you have more than earned our help. I will send what men I can. Bruma must not share the fate of our city."

I stared at him. "Thank you, sir."

"I suppose you'll try and take it on if they  _do_ open a Great Gate, won't you?"

"I guess." I'd been trying not to think about it.

Captain Matius whistled to one of the other guards. When he turned to look, Matius shouted at him, "Get this woman some armor!"

I blanched. "Oh no. No, no, no. I don't need any–"

"I wasn't asking. I'm giving it to you whether you like it or not."

"Yes, sir," I grumbled.

I was soon presented with a set of chainmail. A white tunic displaying a wolf, the symbol of Kvatch, rested on top.

"They've been calling you the Hero of Kvatch," Matius said. "Show them all why. When you cut down those daedra, make sure our sigil is the last thing they see."


	14. Welkynd

It was early in the morning when I finally returned to Cloud Ruler Temple. The sky was just beginning to lighten at the horizon and the stars began to fade away. There was still snow on the peaks of the Jeralls, but the ground down below barely had any frost. The air was chill, and I could see my breath every time I exhaled.

Arcturus let me into the fortress, giving me a tired look. I quickly led my horse into the stables and crept into the barracks. As expected, everyone inside was asleep on their mats. I slipped past them and up the stairs at the far side of the room. Some of the stairs creaked, so I took it slow.

When I reached the top of the landing and peered around the corner, I saw Baurus standing guard outside Martin's door. He caught sight of me and grinned.

"New armor, huh?" He whispered. "Nice. How many of them did you manage to convince?"

"All of them except Ocato," I told him, rolling my eyes. "He mentioned something about General Warhaft telling him the troops are all otherwise occupied at the moment."

Baurus sighed. "I'm sure she's got her hands full right now."

"You know her?"

"Oh yes," he told me, rolling his dark eyes. "My mother's just as stubborn as you are, but if she says she can't spare anyone she means it."

I cocked an eyebrow at that bit of information. His mother, hmm? "At any rate, Bruma's packed right now."

"Thank Talos," he said with a sigh of relief. "We were starting to get worried about how much longer they could hold out."

"How many Gates?" I asked.

"Three. Burd lost a few men in the last one. From what I heard, it was brutal."

I winced. "At least they've got more of a chance now. How are you all holding up here?"

"We're all right. This place is safe, Mar," he reassured me. "It's been standing since Reman Cyrodiil was Emperor. The Blades have always been here, and always will be."

"And Martin?"

"He's fine. Worried about you, but fine."

"Good."

He nodded toward the door. "You came all the way up here to see him didn't you?"

"... Yes."

Baurus winked at me. I shot him a glare in response. He shook his head and smiled. "Go on. I won't say anything."

"Thanks, Baurus," I murmured as I pulled open the door.

The room was just the same as it was the last time I was there. The set of windows looking out onto the courtyard let in a soft blue-gray light as dawn approached. Books with plain and dyed leather covers still filled the shelves of the bookcase on the other side of the room, a bookcase I knew was smaller than he'd like. Martin was asleep, lying on his back with one of his hands tangled up in his mussed chestnut hair. I listened to the sound of his slow, deep breathing for a few moments after I slid the panel shut behind me. Then with careful, quiet steps I walked across the room to stand over him. Bending over, I brushed a tendril of hair behind my ear and gently kissed his cheek. His eyelids twitched.

"Mara?" He murmured. "Is that you, or am I just dreaming?"

"What do you think?" I asked him.

He slowly opened his eyes and gazed up at me. A smile broke across his face.

"You came back."

"I said I always would, didn't I?"

He chuckled softly. "You did."

I looked down at him, watching the lines on his face soften as he stared back at me. All the worry there seemed to melt away. His blue eyes twinkled.

Before I knew what was happening, Martin had reached up, wrapped his arms around me, and crushed his lips against mine. When he suddenly pulled me down onto the bed, I let out a small shriek of surprise against his mouth. A moment later I found myself lying on my back beside him. He propped himself up on one elbow and smirked down at me.

Flustered, I only managed to point an accusing finger at him and gasp, " _You_."

"Yes?" He kissed my fingertip.

A small, outraged sound escaped me. "You. Are.  _Dreadful_."

He cocked one dark eyebrow. "Am I?"

I rolled onto my side, put my arms around his neck, and kissed him firmly.

"Completely."

"Good to know," he murmured.

He captured my lips again. I wound my fingers in his hair and he hummed in contentment.

"May I ask why you're wearing a uniform from Kvatch?" He finally asked in a quiet voice.

"You noticed?"

"Mm."

I shrugged. "It was a gift."

"Was it?"

"Yes."

"Should I be worried about you running off with Matius?" He asked with a laugh.

"Oh, how could you have ever guessed?" I said, rolling my eyes. "I'm going to abandon you for Kvatch's Captain of the Guard. Of course. That makes  _so_  much sense."

When I looked up Martin was grinning at me. I swatted him on the shoulder and crawled off the bed.

"Everyone but the Chancellor sent reinforcements to Bruma. You don't need to worry yourself anymore."

I walked over to stand by the window and crossed my arms. The first rays of the sun were breaking in the eastern sky, turning the horizon a rosy pink color. Behind me the sheets rustled as Martin got up as well.

"I'll always worry as long as you're out there and I'm in here," I heard him say in a soft voice.

I glanced over my shoulder to see the solemn look on his face. His blue eyes were filled with bitterness. I knew what he was thinking. I would be off again soon enough in search of another item for the ritual, and he would be the one to send me. His furrowed brow told me just how heavily this weighed upon him. But what choice did we have?

"So will I," I replied, just as quiet.

Martin shook his head slowly and ran a hand through his hair. Padding over to the wardrobe, he stripped off his nightshirt and pulled out his robe. The corner of my mouth twitched up slightly. Had he been training again? It certainly looked like it. He glanced over at me for a moment and chuckled quietly as he pulled his robe on.

" _Later_ ," he whispered in my ear as he walked past to grab his shoes.

"Has anyone ever told you what an absolute mood-killer you are?"

"Too often to name."

When he made for the door, I tugged him back by his elbow and combed out his tangled hair with my fingers.

"Honestly, Martin," I muttered, "you're going to be the Emperor _._ Can't you at least  _try_  to pull yourself together?"

"I could, but where would the fun be in that?" When I gave an agitated sigh he laughed and kissed my cheek. Sliding open the door panel, he gestured to the hall beyond. "Shall we go, then?"

"Please."

We walked down together towards the west wing's door into the Great Hall. As we passed the barracks, I heard the sounds of the Blades talking and the clanking of metal as they donned on their armor. Baurus was down there as well. He glanced up at us and gave me a knowing grin. I narrowed my eyes and gave him a warning gesture. He smirked and I could see him trying to suppress a laugh. Grumbling, I pushed open the door.

Upon glimpsing the floor, I abruptly stopped. Some kind of design was rendered on the flagstones in front of the fireplace in dark red paint. At least I  _hoped_ it was paint.

"Umm, Martin? What is that for, exactly?"

He glanced over. "Oh, that. It's for the ritual."

"I can't imagine Jauffre's pleased," I said, examining it. It was of some kind of stylized triangle surrounded by lines and spirals. I could see a few words in daedric script here and there.

"He's not."

I chuckled softly. Straightening, I pointed at one of the words and called, "That's spelled wrong."

" _What?_ "

I heard the sound of several books dropping and hurried footsteps as Martin rushed over. His blue eyes were huge as he frantically looked over the design.

"I was kidding," I told him with a laugh.

He frowned at me. "This is serious."

"I know, love. I know."

I leaned against his shoulder. It struck me just how real it all was. We were so close to getting the Amulet back.

"While you were gone, I made some progress in deciphering the Mysterium Xarxes ritual," he said, gazing down on the markings with a faraway look. "The third item we need is a Great Welkynd stone."

"Which would be?"

"They are a powerful type of crystal, the pinnacle of Ayleid magic. Once every Ayleid city had its Great Stone, but they've all been plundered over the centuries due to their great value to mages and occultists. All but one. The Great Stone of Miscarcand is reputed still to shine in the deep darkness of its ruined halls. But no one has ever done more than glimpse it from a distance."

"So it's a long shot at best."

"Yes, unfortunately," he sighed. "But nothing else will do."

I didn't like the odds, but it wasn't any worse than others we'd been up against. "And just how far do I have to go to get to… what was it called?"

"Miscarcand, one of the most extensive Ayleid ruins in Cyrodiil. It sits halfway between Skingrad and Kvatch."

I rolled my eyes. If only I'd known what I was looking for when I was there.

"It was the capital of one of the ancient Ayleid kingdoms which flourished in Cyrodiil before the rise of men," Martin continued. It is said that the ruins are still haunted by the vengeful spirit of its last king. True or not, Miscarcand is not a place to enter lightly. Be careful."

"I will. Don't worry."

"I know you have braved many dangers already, but–"

I put a finger to his lips, silencing him.

"Now," I said, "instead of worrying over what might happen, is there anything I should know about those ruins before I go in there?"

He took my hand and nodded slowly. "You might find "Glories and Laments Among the Ayleid Ruins" useful. I have the library's copy over here if you need it."

I wrinkled my nose and he laughed.

"Come now, it's not  _that_  terrible."

"It will be if you don't help me sift through it," I grumbled.

He smiled. "You know I'm always glad to."

"Good."

* * *

 

Miscarcand was little more than a crumbling ruin. Fragmented marble walls, broken arches, and tumbled columns worn through the centuries covered the landscape. I passed a massive statue of bird covered with tangled moss and vines. It was sad, and more than a little eerie.

As I passed through the ruins, I heard a grunt and I ducked behind a pillar to avoid being seen. Peering around after a few moments, I spotted a goblin sniffing air. I nocked an arrow, took a deep breath, and aimed. When it looked around, I shot it through its left eye. It let out a squeal as it went down. I winced and dashed toward the center of the ruin, hoping to avoid any more confrontations.

In the very middle was a marble citadel. I climbed its stairs cautiously, trying my best to avoid being seen by anything else that might be lurking about. At the very top was another set of stairs, this time leading down in a spiral to a slab door. I pushed it, and it swung open on unseen hinges. A blast of cold, musty air hit me. I shuddered and slipped inside.

The dark stone halls were sparingly lit with blue crystals that rested in sconces along the walls or in wrought cages that hung down from the ceiling. Everything in there was damp and murky. An unearthly chill hung in the air. It had the kind of feeling that Sancre Tor did, only  _far_  older and more forbidding. The blood on floor certainly didn't help. Dark read streaks and smears covered the marble, sometimes even extending up onto the walls. I avoided slipping in it as best I could. Rusted weapons were scattered all around, discarded after battle. Ahead I could hear horrible, unearthly groans and the pained shrieks of injured goblins. The sounds sent chills down my spine, and I readied my bow.

The hall led out onto a balcony overlooking a large chamber. Below I could see a horde of zombies attacking a group of goblins. Or, what was left of them. The hulking undead tore the creatures apart with angered roars. I winced and looked away, careful to stay in the shadows as I crept past.

I walked into another hall. Just as I was about to go down the stairs, there was a furious roar and the sound of something hitting metal. I spun around. A wrought-iron gate blocked off the other end of the hall. There was a zombie on the other side, scrabbling at the filigree. The metal suddenly gave way, and the creature crashed through and lunged at me. Without thinking I shot. My arrow punched right through its forehead and I heard it clatter away. The corpse fell at my feet and I stared at it, breathing hard.

* * *

 

The ruin was long and winding, every hall filled with yet more undead to avoid. I only attacked when I had no other choice. Otherwise I kept to the shadows as much as I could.

At the very bottom of the ruin was a large chamber. A walkway led out to the center of the room, the chamber floor on either side disappearing into shadow. At the end was a dais capped in a ring of iron spikes that supported a brilliant, blue-white light. I squinted as I approached, not used to the brightness after being in the dark for so long.

The source of the light was a crystal spike that was nearly as long as my arm. It hummed and pulsed with energy that made my fingers tingle. There was no doubt in my mind that it was the stone I was looking for.

No sooner had my fingertips touched the stone than a bolt of green fire shot past my head and exploded on the far wall. I whipped my head to face its source.

An emaciated figure dressed in red and clutching a staff was waiting for me on the other side of the walkway. Its skeletal face leered at me from beneath a helm-like golden crown. It fired at me again, and I leapt aside. Below I heard the groans of zombies. Hands reached up over the ledges as they pulled themselves up onto the platform. I shot one and kicked off another that tried to grab for my ankle. If I stayed, I'd be overwhelmed in moments. I grabbed the stone, which dimmed when pulled from its pedestal, and ran back down the strip of marble towards the lich.

Before I could race past, a blast of green fire caught the stone in my arms and sent it spinning away down the hall to the side. The lich grabbed me by my overtunic and dragged me forward. Its eyes glowed sickly green and it roaring at me in a language I didn't understand. I wrenched myself out of its grip and kicked one of its knees out. It stumbled, giving me enough time to stagger back and draw my sword. Raising my sword above my head, I screamed and brought it down to cleave the decayed mer in two. When it fell, there was no more than dust, old robes, and a battered crown left on the floor.


	15. Bruma

The sun was setting when I entered the Great Hall. The first thing I noticed was Martin and Jauffre arguing on the other side of the room, both men silhouetted by the fire. I walked toward them warily.

"With all due respect, sire, there must be another way. The risk is too great!"

"I know the risk. I was at Kvatch. But there is no other way. We have no choice."

As I drew closer, I was surprised to see Martin –  _Martin –_  in full armor. Tiber Septim's armor. Something was definitely not right.

"The Countess will never agree to it."

"She will. She must." Martin sounded desperate, but absolutely resolute on whatever plan he had. At that point, I rounded the post to stand just behind him.

"What's going on here?" I asked, crossing my arms. Martin turned to me, the smile plastered on his face more resembling a grimace.

"Ah, here you are! I have good news, of a sort."

"Yes," Jauffre commented dryly, "let's see what she thinks of your plan."

No, it was definitely not good.

"You've got the Great Stone." Martin said after a short, but thoroughly awkward pause.

"I had a choice?" It was meant as a joke, but he gave me a solemn look that told me that he took my question  _very_  seriously.

"Yes, you did. I can't force you to do anything. I understand that. And I thank you."

I'll admit, that shook me a little. I remembered everything his father had said to me, about the inescapable nature of fate. By that point, I'd ceased to believe I had a choice in  _anything_ I did. I certainly hadn't gone to Kvatch of my own free will. But there was Martin, telling me he believed I had a choice.

I cleared my throat, which had suddenly become very dry, and unstrapped the Stone from my back. I wasn't sorry to see it go; the damn thing was a nuisance. "Here."

He took it from me and carefully unwrapped it. His blue eyes shone in the crystal's pale glow. It was a precious, private moment that almost made me want to step away. "I never thought to see a Great Welkynd Stone! As beautiful as all the old tales tell…" His gaze snapped away from the crystal's glassy surface and onto my face, the moment broken. "But of course its beauty is a mask for its deadly power, like everything crafted by the Ayleids. Now we need only one more item, and we'll be ready to open a portal to Mankar Camoran's realm."

"Well, what is it?"

He shook his head. "I should have seen it sooner. It's the counterpart to the Great Welkynd Stone, just as the first two were the opposed powers of the Daedra and the Divines. Welkynd Stones contain the concentrated power of Mundus; their counterparts are Sigil Stones, which are used to hold open Oblivion Gates. A Great Sigil Stone, then, is what we require."

"A Great Sigil Stone?" I'd gotten plenty of Sigil Stones during my frequent visits into the Deadlands, but a  _Great_  Sigil Stone? "What's the catch?"

Martin paused. He reached past me and placed the partially-wrapped Stone on his still cluttered desk. Then he said quietly, "You're not going to like it. Jauffre doesn't like it. The Countess of Bruma  _certainly_ isn't going to like it. Great Sigil stones are the anchors of Great Gates. The kind of Gate the Mythic Dawn opened at Kvatch. The kind of Gate the Mythic Dawn wants to open here to destroy Bruma."

" _What?_ " I shouted. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Baurus hurriedly ushering Jauffre from the room. "We're going to  _let_  them open it?!"

Martin winced. "I said you weren't going to like it."

"I  _don't!_ "

"The risk is great, I know. I was at Kvatch, I saw the terrible power of the Daedric siege engine. But we have no choice. The only way to recover the Amulet of Kings is to allow the Mythic Dawn to proceed with their plan to attack Bruma."

I searched for an argument, found none, and contented myself with sighing, "At least you'll be safe here."

"No."

" _Martin!_ "

"I'll lead the defense of Bruma myself," he said in a firm voice. "If I am to be Emperor, it's time I started acting like one."

He couldn't be serious. He just couldn't. It wasn't possible. Martin was going to lead the battle?

"It's too risky!" I begged. "Let me do it."

He gave me a look so profoundly deep I swore I could see his whole soul laid out in his eyes. Then he gently took my hands in his and asked, "Remember when we first met in Kvatch?"

"Of course," I sighed.

"I told you I didn't want any part of the Gods' plan. I still don't know if there is a divine plan, but what I've come to realize is that it doesn't matter. What matters is that we act. That we do what's right, when confronted with evil. That's what you did at Kvatch. It wasn't the Gods that saved us, it was  _you_. Were you acting for the Gods? I don't know. But now it's my turn to act."

It dawned on me that the whole thing was my fault. He took what I did at Kvatch and twisted it, creating something noble. What I did hadn't been noble. I hadn't cared about  _anyone_ else in that place. The only reason I even closed the Gate was because he wouldn't have left if it still stood. Everything I'd done had been selfish, every last bit of it. But Martin, of course, saw some good in it. Some good in  _me_. He always did.

"As you wish." I bowed my head quickly and tried to turn away. He held fast.

"Mara, please. I need your judgment, not your obedience. I explain myself to you so you understand me. And so you can explain to the Countess. I'm afraid she may take a bit more convincing than you."

I couldn't help the slight chuckle that escaped me. More convincing than me? I  _still_ wasn't entirely convinced. But, in the end, Martin always had a plan and it always seemed to work out for the best.

"All right, I'll tell her your plan. Crazy as it is."

"Good." He gave me a swift kiss on the cheek and a grim smile. "Have her meet me in the Chapel of Talos for a council of war. That seems a fitting place to make such desperate plans."

* * *

 

Bruma was packed with all the soldiers sent from the other parts of Cyrodiil, camped out in clusters all over the city. I made my way through the tents as best I could as I made my way toward the castle. When I caught some of the soldiers looking at me with interest, I kept my eyes straight ahead and kept walking. I tried to ignore my pounding heart. What was Martin thinking? He was going to get us all killed! I shook my head and tried to push that thought from my mind. No, he was right. We didn't have any other choice if we were to get that Sigil Stone. It was a risky gamble that we had to take. He wouldn't have suggested it otherwise.

When I entered the throne room, there were only two people inside. Captain Burd stood on the dais, blocking most of my view of the woman seated before him on the throne. He turned at my approach and, seeing that it was me, stepped aside.

Countess Narina Carvain looked to be in her mid-thirties. Her elaborate braid was the color of burnished copper, her skin light olive. She was garbed in an evening blue gown trimmed with fur and embroidered here and there with silver designs. There was something almost familiar about her, but I couldn't fathom why. She looked at me curiously.

"Greetings," she said. Her brown eyes took in everything, catching on the emblem on my tunic and the sword at my hip. "You must be the Blade I've heard so much about lately. What news from Cloud Ruler Temple?"

I bowed low and started praying that she wouldn't refuse the plan.

"My lady, I come on behalf of Martin Septim, last son of our late Emperor." Her eyes glinted with interest, but she said nothing. I swallowed hard, steadied myself, and kept going.

"Several months ago the Amulet of Kings was stolen from the Blades. Our only hope of ending this crisis is to get the Amulet back and getting the Dragonfires relit. To do that we need to get a Great Sigil Stone from inside a Great Gate, which we can only do if we allow the Gates to continue to open. I know it's desperate, but it's necessary if we're to save the Empire from further destruction."

Lady Carvain rubbed the bridge of her nose and shook her head. "A desperate plan indeed. This... prince? Emperor? Martin would risk my whole city to gain a Great Sigil Stone?"

"He wouldn't if there was any other way. We must recover the Amulet."

"This is the  _only_  way to stop this invasion from Oblivion?" When I nodded, she sighed in resignation. "I must confess, you are the first person to speak of victory against these daedra. This war has seemed hopeless to me, but what else was there to do but hold on and wait for a hero to arise to save us? And now it seems there is an heir to the throne after all, hidden at Cloud Ruler Temple... and perhaps a hero as well?"

I avoided her gaze. "Martin waits at the Chapel."

"You avoid answering my question," she said with an elegantly raised brow and a hint of a knowing smile. She got to her feet, clasping her hands before her. "Very well. Don't think I doubt you. The rulers of Bruma have long had dealings with Cloud Ruler Temple. We know whom they serve. I will meet Martin at the Chapel. When all is ready, I will order my men to stop closing the Gates and prepare for battle."

Countess Carvain followed me down to the Chapel of Talos. Once there we arrived, I took my place at Martin's side. I think I caught a hint of a smile as he saw me.

The Countess made a slight curtsey and said, "Your Highness? I am Narina Carvain, Countess of Bruma, at your service."

Martin's fist clenched. I could practically feel his anxiety. Silently, I prayed that he would hold together.

"There is no need for any formality at this time. I am not Emperor yet, and I am quite new to this notion of being heir to the throne." Well, some things never changed. "Thank you for coming. I know I am asking for a great deal of trust, but this is the only way. I would not suggest it otherwise."

"Your Champion has already explained the situation to me. I have agreed to it. We will not win this war through caution."

Martin inclined his head to her. "You have a rare gift, to know when desperation is the path of wisdom. I will do everything in my power to defend your city, my Lady."

"If Bruma falls, the Empire falls with it. So be it." She turned to me. "I am ready for battle when you are, Champion. What say you?"

"Let's do it."

She nodded gravely. "So be it. Bruma's fate is in the Gods' hands now… and yours." Then she cried, "Burd! Deploy your troops for battle!"

As everyone scrambled around to prepare, I asked Martin, "You're sure about this? There's still time for you to go back."

He took the helmet Baurus handed him and crammed it on his head before looking at me. "My place is on the battlefield. The time for hiding in Cloud Ruler Temple is over. Come, let us go down to battle together." He held out his hand to me. I stared at it. It was an oath. A promise. Unbreakable. He trusted me, so now I had to trust him. I reached out a heartbeat later, grasping his hand firmly in mine, and nodded. He grinned and pulled me out the door.

The streets were lined with the citizens of Bruma when we stepped out of the Chapel. They looked at him in shock. He stopped and stared back at the crowd. Baurus strode forward, stepping around us and facing the people. As he did, I slipped my hand out of Martin's. He frowned and I shook my head. It was not the moment to draw attention to myself.

"Here is Martin Septim," Baurus called, "last living son of Emperor Uriel Septim the seventh, Dragonborn and heir to the Ruby Throne!"

A murmur rose in the crowd, the voices surprised. I could see the astonishment on their faces. I felt Martin tense beside me.

One person cried, "Hail, Martin Septim!"

A cacophonous roar started as the people of Bruma began to cheer. All of them were shouting his name. Martin took a deep breath and stepped out onto the street and the rest of us followed. I stole a glance at him. While not relaxed, he looked much less anxious than before, thank the Divines. We neared the city gate, and I heard someone shout something about an Oblivion Gate opening.

I felt numb. It was really happening.

"Stay with me," I whispered. "No matter what happens, Martin. Please."

He shook his head. "Don't worry about me. You need to focus on obtaining the Sigil Stone. If you can't, this will all have meant nothing."

"And if you die it will mean even  _less_. We've come so far. I can't lose you now."

He glanced down at me, blue eyes mournful.

"I don't want to lose you either."

He carefully reached over and entwined his little finger with mine. It was a small gesture, and hopefully one that would go unnoticed. Still, I kept the touch longer than I should have, needing the reassurance. There was a good chance, a very good chance, that neither of us would make it out of the battle alive. I wanted to take him and run. I wanted to do  _anything_  but let him keep walking down toward that Gate.

The Oblivion Gate had opened in a small snowy basin just south of the city. Most of the army was already assembled there by the time we arrived, waiting on the north slope and facing the burning Gate. Grandmaster Jauffre and Captain Burd immediately broke away to finish getting the troops into formation.

Baurus appeared through the crowd and clapped me on the shoulder, saying, "Good luck, Mar. I have a feeling you're going to need it in there."

"I do too."

I watched Martin as he steeled himself before stepping out before the small army. My nerves hadn't calmed at all. It was one thing when I was facing the Daedra. When it was him...

"Keep him safe when I go in there, will you?" I asked Baurus.

The Blade nodded, face deathly serious. "I will. I'm not going to let another Emperor fall on my watch."

"And try not to get yourself killed."

"That would be nice, wouldn't it?"

Baurus left and took his place near Jauffre. Once everyone was in position, Martin turned towards the assembled soldiers.

"Soldiers of Cyrodiil," he cried, his voice sharp and clear. "The Empire will stand or fall by what we do here today! Will we let the daedra do to Bruma what they did to Kvatch? Will we let them burn our homes? Will we let them kill our families? No! We make our stand here, today, for the whole of Cyrodiil! We must hold fast until the Hero of Kvatch can destroy their Great Gate. We must kill whatever comes out of that Gate!"

The air was deathly still, save for the rumbling of otherworldly thunder. Martin drew his sword. His gold armor glinted in the burning light. I remembered the last time he'd given a speech before his people, how nervous he'd been. That was not the man I saw before me. This man had the resolve to lead not only the army he addressed, but the entirety of Tamriel. This man was an  _Emperor_.

His gaze locked onto mine.

"Soldiers of Cyrodiil!  _Do you stand with me?_ "

The soldiers roared and I heard them shout out the names of their cities. I drew my bow, waiting. Moments later a horde of daedra ripped out of the flaming portal. I raced forward, firing and taking out a Dremora that was headed straight for Martin.

"Get back!" I hissed, stumbling to a halt beside him. I nocked another arrow.

Archers from the back shot down the daedra that poured out of the Gate. The other soldiers rushed forward and I heard the ringing crash of steel colliding with daedric metal all across the battlefield. I stayed as close to Martin as I could, shooting any daedra that came too close. Everything was confusion. It was all I could do to keep an eye on Martin and watch for the Gates opening. A second and a third tore their way into the world, spitting out even more creatures.

"Hold the line!" Martin shouted over the fighting. "Hold–"

The ground shook and a horrible screech like metal being pulled asunder filled the air as the Great Gate ripped open. My heart stuttered and all I could do was stare up at it in horror. It was  _at least_  three times the size of the other Gates, taller than the city walls. All around me I heard exclamations of fear from some of the other soldiers. I looked at Martin. There was no fear in his eyes. There was nothing but anger and resolve.

That was what he'd seen in Kvatch. That's what he'd saved all those people from.

"You need to close the Great Gate!" He shouted at me, snapping me out of my daze. "We'll try to hold them off as long as we can!"

He stabbed a daedra that swung its mace in our direction and I ran, swerving between combatants and dodging fire. My heart pounded and all my thoughts were on him.  _Don't die, don't die, don't die._..

Fire swirled around me as I dashed through the portal. Before me was a metal gate just as high as what I'd just passed through. It slowly swung out, revealing a kind of massive black siege machine that began to crawl forward. Between it and me were yet more daedra. I dodged most of them, not even bothering to try and take them down. The moment that engine crawled through the Gate, it was all over.

A spider woman suddenly appeared before me. She reared up, screeching, and swiped at me with one clawed hand. Her blow made contact with my cheek and I stumbled back. Grabbing an arrow, I nocked it, dodged her next blow, and shot her through one of her glowing eyes. She crumpled, screaming. She was still twitching when I ran. I yanked open the door to one of the towers flanking the siege machine. Kicking the lever, I jumped onto the lift and rode it up. I wiped the blood off my face, wincing as I felt the gashes. There was no way to tell how deep they were. I healed them as best I could, ignoring the throbbing pain in my cheek that was still present even after they'd closed. I'd deal with it better later.

The top of the tower connected to an identical one by a long, narrow bridge. A Dremora was waiting halfway down. I shot him and raced past as it fell into the lava far below. I glanced to my left. The siege machine was getting too close. I ran faster, through the door and down the second tower. I wrenched open the door and stumbled to a halt.

The Citadel containing the Sigil Stone was across a river of lava. The bridge was smashed. Only an unstable fragment balanced in the middle and the ruins of the far edge remained. Jumping it would be risky, but the gap didn't look too wide. I took a running leap and landed on the platform. It was only when I was there that I realized just how much further the other side actually was. It looked too far to reach, especially with no space to prepare. But what choice did I have? Steeling myself, I made the jump.

I knew I'd fallen too short. Reaching out desperately, I grabbed the ledge before I could fall into the lava below. My body slammed against the rocky face of the ravine. I scrabbled at the stone, trying to pull myself up. I'd come too far for it to end like that. I quickly found a foothold and used it to propel myself up and crawl onto safer ground.

Taking several deep breaths to regain my bearings, I glanced up at the citadel. It was so close and I had no time left to lose.

* * *

 

My vision cleared to reveal the snow covered battlefield. The fallen corpses of both men and daedra littered the ground. I could see Martin in his golden armor. He was alive. He was  _alive!_

My joy was cut short by a creaking sound above me. I looked up. The siege engine had made it partway out before I closed the Gate. In its absence, the machine had begun to crumble. I dove to the ground, desperate to avoid being hit. Pieces fell all around me, and I was sure I would die. I didn't. I was spared. But I couldn't move. I didn't dare, in case I loosed one of the huge plates and they all came down again.

Through the wreckage I could hear voices. Curious, surprised voices. Then Martin's.

"Mara?  _Mara?_ "

"Sire, there's nothing you can–"

"Get out of my way! I must find her!" He sounded just as terrified as I felt.

" _Martin!_ " I called. My voice was lost in the maze of heavy metal plates that trapped me. " _Martin, I'm here!_ " I crawled through the ruin toward where I'd heard his voice. There I was greeted by the sound of metal scraping against metal as he cleared a path to reach me. Soon, a hole appeared and there he was. His helm was gone and his eyes were wild with fear. He caught sight of me and froze. The Daedric plate he held slipped from his hands.

"I did it," I told him weakly.

Before I could even think about trying to get out, he pulled me forward and kissed me roughly, full on the mouth. It was a desperate kiss. But oh Gods, I needed it. All the pain and fear just melted away. I deepened the kiss. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I let him pull me to my feet. Our lips parted finally, and he looked me over. Then his eyes caught on the Sigil Stone lying in the snow.

"I can't believe that actually worked." He breathed.

I touched his cheek. "Don't sound so surprised." I told him. Reaching down, I scooped up the Stone, and, arm in arm, Martin led me away from what was left of the siege engine.

The soldiers waited out on the field, watching us. Then Baurus started clapping. Soon they all joined him, their cheers filling the clearing. I ducked my head to hide my embarrassed flush. Martin nudged me gently.

"You should be proud, my love," he murmured. "You saved us all."

"It was your idea."

He was silent. I glanced up and saw his frown and furrowed brow as he gazed down at me.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked, suddenly nervous.

"On your face… does that hurt?"

He must have seen the scratches. I shrugged. "A little. I healed them closed when I was in the Gate, but–"

"Mara, they're bleeding."

" _What?_ "

I felt my cheek. The skin was puffy and sticky around the gashes. My fingers had barely made contact when a searing pain tore through my face. Stars exploded in front of my eyes. My legs gave way beneath me and I crumpled. I faintly felt arms around me, catching me before I could hit the ground. Frantic shouting. I heard the word  _poison_ , and Martin's voice over everything else.

"Stay with me, Mara. Don't give in now. Don't give in…"


	16. Paradise

When the world came back into focus, it felt like no time had passed. Somehow I'd gotten from the battlefield all the way back up to Cloud Ruler Temple. I was stretched out on my back on one of the mats in the barracks. Both Martin and Baurus hovered over me with looks of concern. The former had already changed out of his armor. When he saw that I was looking at him, some of the worry on his face melted away.

"I guess I'm alive," I managed.

Martin chuckled, though it sounded forced. "I wasn't sure for a moment. You gave me quite a scare."

"That wasn't my intention."

I felt my cheek. It was still sore, but didn't sting when I touched it. I traced the ridges of several long, thin scars that cut across the skin.

"The poison did too much damage, I couldn't heal–"

I shook my head. "I don't care about the scars."

From somewhere out of view, I heard a voice that sounded like Jauffre's calling Baurus's name. The Blade looked up.

"I'd better go," he said. "I was honored to fight by your side again, Mar."

"And I with you, Baurus."

He nodded once and quickly left, vanishing from my sight. Martin watched him go before he turned his attention back on me and asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Like I'm not dead, for which I am  _very_ grateful."

"Mara, we still need to get the Amulet."

There was a long silence. As dangerous as the Gate had been, Paradise would be far worse. After how close I came to dying there, my chances weren't looking good at all. I knew that, and Martin knew as well. I broke the silence first.

"I know. I'm ready."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Yes, this needs to be done  _now._ "

I sat up shakily and he helped me to my feet. The anxiety I'd seen earlier had returned in the furrow of his brow. He kissed me on the cheek and held onto me longer than he needed to as he said, "I'll have the ritual ready in the Great Hall when you're ready."

He left. The door opened, closed, and he was gone. I stretched my sore arms and repeated over and over in my head that this needed to be done. There wasn't a choice. We'd come too far to just fail. My weapons were on the rack nearby. I strapped them on and squared my shoulders. It was time.

Most of the Blades were gathered in the Great Hall by the time I entered. All of them watched Martin with some degree of apprehension. He stood by the marks on the floor, before the fire. The Sigil and Welkynd stones hovered on either side of the design.

"I have everything in place for the ritual," Martin said in a quiet voice when I approached. "I don't know what you'll find in Camoran's Paradise. I do know the portal I create through the will close behind you. You'll have to find another way back. I believe that Mankar Camoran acts as the "anchor" for Paradise, just as a sigil stone anchors an Oblivion Gate in place. Kill Mankar Camoran, and you will unmake his Paradise. Shall I open the portal? Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

He shot me a quick , worried look. "Then farewell. Our fate is in your hands. Bring back the Amulet of Kings. Brace yourself."

He raised his arms and murmured a few words under his breath. The designs on the floor burst with light and writhed, making a crackling sound as they did. Some of the Blades gasped and backed further away. The two Stones exploded in flashes of red and green light. They merged in a fiery portal at the center and stone spikes curled up to frame it. I glanced over at Martin. Sweat was beading up on his brow as he concentrated. I didn't know how long he could hold the portal open, and I didn't want to find out. Gripping my bow, I leapt into the portal.

* * *

 

There was a rush of air around me. Opening my eyes again, I found myself standing in some kind of garden. There were flowers everywhere: covering the hill that I stood on the bank of and practically dripping from the trees that surrounded me. The blossoms were shades of pink, blue, and purple. Through the trees below I saw a deer bounding off. Further still I could see the dark blue waves of an ocean. The stone path I stood on wound further up the hill. I followed it, nocking an arrow just in case.

A voice suddenly spoke, saying haughtily, " _So, the cats-paw of the Septims arrives at last._ "

I jumped and whirled around, looking for its source. Nothing but flowers. It took me a moment to realize that, not only was it coming from inside my head, but I also recognized the voice. It was Camoran's.

" _You didn't think you could take me unawares, here of all places?"_ He asked. _"In the Paradise that I created? Look now upon my Paradise. Gaiar Alata, in the old tongue. A vision of the past... and the future_."

There was a woman ahead. She stumbled as she ran. As I got closer, I noticed she was covered in bruises and blood. The clothes she wore were no more than tattered rags. When she saw me she turned her course and ran right for me. I drew my bow and aimed it at her.

"Stop right there."

She did. Breathing hard, she asked me, "Are… are you here to end this nightmare and free us all from the Savage Garden?"

My eyes narrowed. "That depends. Who are you?"

"I was a member of the Mythic Dawn. Everyone here died in the Master's service. As the Master promised, we are now immortal, like the daedra. But our life here is a nightmare. The creatures of the Garden torment us endlessly." She looked around furtively, as if expecting one to appear. "When they kill us, we are soon reborn and the cycle begins again. No one has yet found a way to leave the Garden, except those few given the Bands of the Chosen and allowed to enter the Forbidden Grotto. No one who enters ever returns."

"How do I find Camoran?"

She pointed behind her to the top of the mountain. I could see through the trees that it was taller than I'd thought.

"At the top of that mountain lies the Terrace of Dawn, which leads up to Mankar Camoran's palace, Carac Agaialor. Beneath the moutnain lies the Forbidden Grotto, the only way out of the Savage Garden. Save us. Please."

I nodded and she ran off again. As I continued on down the path, over bridges crossing streams running out to the sea and under arches that looked more than faintly Ayleid in nature, Camoran's voice spoke again.

" _Behold the Savage Garden, where my disciples are tempered for a higher destiny: to rule over Tamriel reborn. If you are truly the hero of destiny, as I hope, the Garden will not hold you for long. Lift your eyes to Carac Agaialor, my seat at the pinnacle of Paradise. I shall await you there_."

"Good," I grumbled. "Less work for me that way."

I heard roars and distant screams, but saw nothing. Nothing but the endless waves of those damn flowers. I turned a corner towards the base of the mountain, rounding a large boulder, and locked eyes with the Dremora blocking my path. I instantly raised my bow.

He didn't make a move to strike. Instead he stared at me with dark red eyes, his pupils no more than slits.

"You destroyed the Sigil Tower at Ganonah," he said in a rumbling voice. "My kin say you fought well."

I drew my arrow back. "I have nothing to say to you."

"Talk or not as you choose, but you will listen."

"What do you want?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"There is one way out of the Garden. I guard that path. You will travel that path, and it will bring me honor to defeat you. But you shamed my kin at Ganonah. To bring you into my service... that would also bring me honor. So I offer you a choice. Would you confront me in battle, or offer me a service?"

"I don't work for Daedra."

He glared at me and drew his sword. "Your mind follows the simple path, the choice of an animal. But you have courage, at least. You will fail, mortal, and then where will you be? Dead. And  _nothing_."

He blocked the arrow I fired at him with his sword. I dropped my bow and drew my sword, bringing it up just in time to keep the daedra from cutting me in half. Ducking under his next blow, I swung around and stabbed him through a weak spot in the side of his armor. He made a retaliatory swipe, missing when I jumped out of range, and collapsed. Blood flowed over the white stone of the pathway. I retrieved my bow while keeping an eye on the dying Daedra.

Once I was sure he was dead, I checked the corpse for the Bands of the Chosen that the woman had mentioned. There was a pair of metal bracers tied to his belt. I pulled them off and examined them. Both were inlaid with some kind of black design. I unlatched the clasps holding them closed and put them on. When I did the designs on the Bands glowed briefly and they locked around my wrists with an ominous  _click_. I pulled at the latch, but I wouldn't budge. I sighed.

Ahead was a stone door set into the side of the mountain. I pushed it open and stepped into the dark, waterlogged cavern beyond. There were other people down there, hiding in the shadows. I saw the Bands around their wrists and the desolate looks in their eyes. I passed through them, none of us uttering so much as a single word, but their gaze never left me.

" _How little you understand!"_ Camoran chuckled in my head. _"You cannot stop Lord Dagon. The principalities have sparkled as gems in the black reaches of Oblivion since the First Morning. Many are their names and the names of their masters: the Coldharbour of Meridia, Peryite's Quagmire, the ten Moonshadows of Mephala, and Dawn's Beauty, the princedom of Lorkhan... misnamed "Tamriel" by deluded mortals_ …"

I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore the voice.

" _…_ _Yes, you understand now. Tamriel is just one more Daedric realm of Oblivion, long since lost to its Prince when he was betrayed by those who served him. Lord Dagon cannot_ invade _Tamriel, his birthright! He comes to liberate the occupied lands! Ask yourself, how is it that mighty gods die, yet the Daedra stand incorruptible? How is it that the Daedra forthrightly proclaim themselves to man, while the gods cower behind statues and the faithless words of traitor-priests? It is simple... they are not gods at all. The truth has been in front of you since you first were born: the Daedra are the true gods of this universe._   _Julianos, Dibella, and Stendaar are all Lorkhan's betrayers, posing as divinities in a principality that has lost its guiding light. What are Scholarship, Love, and Mercy when compared to Fate, Night, and Destruction?_ "

"Shut up, shut up,  _SHUT UP!_ " I snarled, shaking my head to try to get the voice out. He kept talking, mocking me. Clapping my hands over my ears did nothing. Angry and shaking, I stabbed a Clanfear that tried to jump at me.

At the end of the cavern was a stone door inset with glowing red designs. Camoran went silent as I approached it, much to my relief. When I reached it the Bands around my wrist glowed and the door slid open to reveal another cave.

The first thing I noticed was the screaming. It came from the river of lava that cut through the chamber. Cages hung above it and inside them were prisoners with horrible burns that covered their whole bodies. Some chains from the ceiling led down into the river, where their cages were submerged. There was a cultist on the stone bridge spanning the river. He drew his knife when he saw me, but wasn't quick enough to stop my strike. I cut him down and kicked his body into the lava.

As I passed into the next room in the caverns, another cultist approached. I prepared to drive my sword into his chest, but he held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. I hesitated.

"You wear the Bands, but you're no prisoner," he said, looking with curiosity at my wrists. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"I'm the one who's going to kill Mankar Camoran."

He looked relieved, although there was some hesitancy. "Can you really do it? Can you really bring this eternal nightmare to an end? Can you defeat Mankar Camoran and free all the souls of the poor fools who followed him? Listen, I can help you. You need me if you are ever to leave the forbidden grotto."

"Why would you help me?" I asked, lowering my blade a fraction of an inch.

"I was at the sack of Kvatch. They had no chance. We took them by surprise, and we carried the walls in the first assault. But they fought on anyway. Desperately. They seemed to think this decadent, mundane world of theirs was worth defending. I was slain after the battle was over. Three townsfolk hiding in a cellar attacked me when I entered their house, hunting down survivors. They tore me to pieces, although I have no doubt they were immediately killed by my companions."

When my sword snapped up to rest threateningly alongside his neck, he held up his hands in a pleading gesture.

"Why shouldn't I just kill you now?" I hissed.

"I've had plenty of time to ponder my deeds since I came here. Ponder… and regret. An eternity of regret. For my weakness, the Master sent me here to torture my former comrades who showed similar ingratitude for his gift of eternal life."

"How can you possibly help me?"

"No one wearing the Bands of the Chosen can leave this Grotto. The doors will not open, and there is no other way out. I can remove them, but I will need time. The Dremora overseer will be here any minute to check up on me. You need to play along until he arrives. Just act like a prisoner, and do as I say. Once Orthe leaves, we can find a quiet place to remove these bands."

I sheathed my sword. "Fine. I'll do it."

"Good. Follow me, and don't worry. You can trust me."

I wasn't so sure, but I followed him anyway. When was approached one of the cages, I stopped. There was no way I was getting in there. Forget it.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the room. I turned to see a Dremora approaching, his eyes fixed on me.

"What's going on here? Who's this?" He growled.

"A prisoner, sent in by–"

"Show me some respect, worm!" The Dremora spat. "Unless you want to end up in the cages with them."

"Yes, kynreeve. Sir. This prisoner was sent in by Kathutet for questioning. I was about to begin."

The Dremora looked back at me, eyeing me with suspicion. I glanced away. "This is not one of Mankar Camoran's chattels from the Garden. Who is she?"

"Nothing escapes your vigilance, kynreeve. Kathutet wondered as well. This is why he sent her for questioning."

"Fine. Carry on."

The cultist gave him a short bow. "Of course, kynreeve. Prisoner, get in the cage!"

It was easy to see that I didn't have much of a choice. Not with the Dremora watching and not if I wanted the Bands off. Steeling myself, I climbed into the cage. The door clanged shut. Still the Dremora didn't budge. He watched me with crossed arms. I glared back. The cultist walked over to a lever and pulled it. The cage plummeted toward the lava. I let out a shriek. It stopped mere feet above the surface of the boiling river, swinging back and forth slightly as it did. I clung desperately to the bars as I huddled at the back. That was close.  _Very_ close. The cage creaked and lifted slowly away from the lava after a pause. When I reached the top, I saw that the Dremora was gone. A door on the other side of the cage swung down.

"There's no way for me to cross, but the Master's immortality does have some uses! I will distract the Dremora for as long as I can!"

I nodded and dashed off down a nearby tunnel. It was long and winding, splitting off into side passages several times. I had to hide more than once, avoiding the notice of several spider daedra. My cheek still ached a little from the wounds the one in the Gate had dealt me. Once I was sure they'd moved on I was off once more.

When I found the cultist, he looked more than a bit battered. The sleeves of his robes were in tatters and bruises and scratches covered his arms. His hood had fallen back, revealing his golden face and pointed ears.

"You made it," he said after catching his breath. "I didn't think you'd have any trouble. Let's get these bands off you..." He touched the Bands. They glowed brightly and dropped to the ground. "There. You're not a prisoner of the forbidden grotto any longer. Let me come with you. Let me help you kill Mankar Camoran. I am not without power."

I eyed him suspiciously. Regardless of whether or not he'd just let me go, he was still one of them. "I don't know if that's a good idea," I said carefully.

"Perhaps you still do not trust me," he sighed. "Very well. I will not interfere. If Akatosh still hears my prayers, go with his blessing." I nodded and he backed away, letting me pass further into the caverns.

I hadn't gone far when I heard Mankar Camoran's snide voice yet again.

" _Well done, champion! Your progress is swift and sure. Perhaps you will reach me after all_."

"And when I do, perhaps I'll lop off your ugly head, you s'wit," I growled.

" _You think I mock you? Not at all. In your coming I hear the footsteps of Fate. You are the last defender of decadent Tamriel. I am the midwife of the Mythic Dawn, Tamriel Reborn. I welcome you, if you are truly the agent of fate. I_ tire  _of the self-styled heroes who set themselves in my path, only to prove unworthy in the event_."

I left the cavern, blinking as I stepped back into the light. There were more flowers everywhere I looked. I sighed. Far below I could see the ocean stretching out to the horizon beyond the tops of the tall trees. Above, at the top of the mountain, was a palace carved out of white marble. Gripping my sword, I trudged up the path toward it.

Archways dripping with vines and purple flowers led to the palace. Its top was carved in fragile loops like a huge marble crown. Stairs led to the main door. Two figures dressed in crimson robes stood at the top, the shorter descending to meet me as I approached. She lowered her hood and I stopped, my grip on the hilt of my sword tightening instinctively. I knew that face. I'd seen the light in those golden eyes go out after I'd stabbed her in the chest with her own ceremonial knife.

She laughed coldly at me. "You did not expect to see me again, did you? You have no grasp of the power that my father has at his command. You think you can stop us? Soon Mehrunes Dagon will walk upon Tamriel for the first time since the Mythic Age, and our victory will be complete. Come, my father is waiting to welcome you to Carac Agaialor."

She beckoned to me and I followed her into the palace. I was aware of the other figure following me, and tried to keep track of his movements just in case he decided to attack.

The throne room was cold and empty, lit by soft blue-white light from the Ayleidic crystal lamps hanging from the ceiling. At the far end of the chamber, Camoran lounged in a marble throne at the top of a dais. His children left me to stand on either side of him.

"I have waited a long time for you, Champion of Old Tamriel," Mankar Camoran drawled. "You are the last gasp of a dying age. You breathe the stale air of false hope. How little you understand! You  _cannot_  stop Lord Dagon. The walls between our worlds are crumbling. The Mythic Dawn grows nearer with every rift in the firmament. Soon, very soon, the lines now blurred will be erased. Tamriel and Oblivion rejoined! The Mythic Age reborn! Lord Dagon shall walk Tamriel again. The world shall be remade. The new age shall rise from the ashes of the old. My vision shall be realized. Weakness shall be purged from the world, and mortal and immortal alike purified in the refiner's fire."

I stalked down the long hall toward him, my footfalls echoing up into the lofty ceiling. Around his neck I saw the ruby-red glint of the Amulet of Kings. I growled, rage boiling in my veins and hissing out on my tongue. How  _dare_  he? He smirked in response to my anger.

"My long duel with the Septims is over, and I have the mastery. The Emperor is dead. The Amulet of Kings is  _mine._ And the last defender of the last ragged Septim stands before me, in the heart of my power. Let us see who at last has proved the stronger."

Before he could get to his feet I stormed up the dais. Letting out a scream of pure fury, I slashed across his chest with my blade. Blood poured out of the wound, painting his blue robes black and his white throne crimson. His daughter shoved me away. I whirled around and slashed open her throat. Her brother had already summoned his armor by the time he attacked. I swung my blade through the weak fabric of his cowl, taking off his helmeted head. It clanged as it hit the ground and rolled away.

Taking a few deep breaths, I surveyed the damage I'd done. Two bodies lay on the palace floor, blood pooling beneath both of them. Mankar Camoran himself leaned heavily against the wall opposite me. His hands were full of golden light as he tried to heal the wound I'd dealt him. I strode across the room and stabbed him right through the heart. He gasped. Smirking, I unhooked the Amulet from around his neck.

"We win," I hissed in his ear as I drew my sword back out of his chest. He crumpled to the floor, dead.

No sooner had his corpse fallen then the walls began to shake. Gripping the Amulet tightly in my fist, I ran for the door. Then, overhead, the ceiling cracked. I dove to the side to avoid a piece of it as it started to collapse. Maybe Martin had been wrong. Maybe I  _wouldn't_ go back. Or, if I did, I would already be dead. I dodged falling chunks of stone as I made a dash for the exit. Then the rest of the roof started to fall, right above me. I knew I wouldn't make it. I braced myself for the impact.

It never came.

"Blades, do homage to Martin's Champion!" Jauffre? Had I made it back after all?

I opened my eyes to see the Blades, in a circle around me,  _kneeling_. My jaw dropped and my sword fell out of my hand. I couldn't move. They shouldn't have been kneeling to me! Still dazed from my ordeal, I stumbled forward a few steps. Martin caught me in his arms before I could fall, and I suddenly found myself staring up into his bright blue eyes.

"You found a way back! Does this mean…"

"Mankar Camoran is dead," I told him. My voice was barely a whisper, hoarse and strained.

"You did it. You defeated him. Then you have it… you have the Amulet of Kings?"

I lifted my hand. The Amulet rested on my open palm as I held it out to him. "Here. The Amulet belongs to you."

"Belongs to me? The Amulet of Kings?" He asked in a voice that trembled at the edges. He did not take the Amulet. "So you and Jauffre have said. If it is true, if the Emperor really was my father, then I should be able to wear it. Only those of the Septim blood can wear the Amulet of Kings."

I knew that look he had, that slight crease in his brow. It was how he looked when we'd first arrived at Cloud Ruler. It was that hint of nerves that I could see in him that made me sure that nothing that happened had really, truly changed him. Emperor or not, he was still  _Martin_.

A light smile curling my lips, I said in a soft voice, "Put on the Amulet, your Majesty."

"Yes, of course. What am I waiting for?" And there was that flustered tone I knew so well. "After all, this is my destiny. And no man can deny his destiny."

He hadn't moved to take the Amulet yet. That was my cue, obviously. I reached out and fastened it around his neck. I held my breath and prayed. It did not fall. It stayed where it was, blood-red in the light of the fire. He looked down at it and back up at me.

"You see," I said. "You  _are_ Uriel Septim's son."

He gave me a smile then, a smile so glowing and so  _him_  that I swore my heart sang. "I didn't really need an Amulet to tell me that. I've known it was true since you first told me back in Kvatch." He became sober as he added, "But it is one thing to talk of becoming Emperor, and quite another to actually be the Emperor."

I poked him in the chest. "You  _are_ the Emperor."

He shook his head. "Not yet. Until we light the Dragonfires, the Gates are open, and Mehrunes Dagon's invasion continues. While you were gone, I sent a messenger to Chancellor Ocato. He waits for us in the Imperial City."

"Let's not keep him waiting, then."


	17. Dragonfires

We were nearing the Imperial city. The white tower of the Imperial Palace was visible in the distance. It was so tantalizingly close, but there were still several days to go until we would arrive. We traveled at the fastest pace we could, as every moment we wasted was another that Mehrunes Dagon could use against us.

The entourage of Blades stopped at a nearby inn for the night. Martin would have been in danger no matter what we did. We were in some kind of shelter, at the very least, and no one argued that was a blessing.

I finished unsaddling my horse and walked back to the inn. Halfway there I stopped and gazed out at the horizon. The sun was setting, turning the sky brilliant shades of pink, orange, and red. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath of the evening spring air, grateful for the still moment. Everything would change soon. For better or worse, I didn't know. I'd take on whatever the future held no matter what happened, just like I always had.

"Fides."

I opened my eyes and looked back over my shoulder. Jauffre leaned out the front door of the inn, his eyes on me.

"Sir?"

"Could I have a word?" He called, beckoning me with a nod of his head.

I paused, feeling like something was off, but nodded anyway and followed him inside. The Grandmaster led me upstairs and into one of the few empty rooms.

"Shut the door," he said.

I did, slowly and with mounting anxiety. The look in his eyes boded ill.

"What is it, sir?" I asked.

Jauffre sighed and rubbed his forehead. "As you know, we'll arrive in the Imperial City in three days' time. When we do, Martin will light the Dragonfires and take his place on the Ruby Throne. But declaring oneself Emperor is a delicate matter. In this case I do not think there will be much dispute, and I'm sure the Elder Council will be overjoyed to have an heir to crown. However, once Martin uses the Amulet of Kings to restore peace, attitudes may change. He is not a legitimate heir, and there will almost certainly be some that disapprove."

"I fail to see the reason you needed me," I said.

"Very well, I will be blunt. I need you to return to Cloud Ruler Temple for the time being and free Martin from distraction."

_Distraction?_

"And what," I snapped, "is that supposed to mean?"

"Whether it's intentional or not, you're leading him on. You are a Blade and you must learn your place."

"My place is at his side."

"Your place is to  _protect_ him, not seduce him!" He barked.

I actually took a step back at that. "Excuse me?"

"When Martin takes the throne he needs to marry for the good of the Empire. I've already arranged an alliance between him and Countess Narina Carvain."

I stepped back again, and again, searching for something left in me that was strong to hang onto so I didn't shatter. Deep down I'd known it would happen sooner or later, but that did nothing to prepare me for the blow.

"You  _will_  return to Cloud Ruler Temple tomorrow. After things settle down, I may allow you to return as a member of his guard. You are talented, Fides, and he will need someone with your skills guarding him in these trouble times. However, for the time being, I don't trust that you'll be able to stay and not distract him from his purpose."

I stopped, my back straightening, and I lifted my gaze back to Jauffre's.

"His purpose," I murmured. "Not his duty. His  _purpose_."

I held onto that thought, letting it reach its conclusion. Uriel Septim had seen more than ordinary men, as Baurus had told me. He'd known about his own death. He'd known about the Gates. He'd known about  _me_. What else had he seen in the past? Had he realized that he and his sons were vulnerable? He was a shrewd man, of that I was sure. The way he'd given me the Amulet and told me to find Martin... it all seemed a bit, well, planned. He had a spare son, hidden away until he was needed. Was the entire reason for Martin's existence to be a backup plan?

"He knew," I hissed.

"Fides–"

I glared at Jauffre. "He  _knew_. That was the Emperor's plan from the beginning, wasn't it? To use Martin in case something ever happened? Martin wasn't chance; he was  _planned!_ "

"Fides, if you don't stop this right now–"

"Did you know as well, Grandmaster?" I shouted at him. "This whole time?  _Did you?_ "

Jauffre's eyes grew stony as he said, "Of course I knew! Uriel confided in me that he was worried something would happen to him and his sons when he gave me the child–"

He stopped when a door slammed downstairs. I whirled around, my blood growing cold.

"Martin."

Before Jauffre could stop me I wrenched the door open, stumbled down the stairs, and raced out of the inn. A figure crossed my path and I almost crashed into him. Baurus.

"Get out of my way!" I shouted at him.

"Mar? What's going on?"

"It's Martin. I have to get to him. Now move!"

He did, stepping aside with a look of shock as I tore off.

It didn't take long for me to find him. I could see Martin ahead. His fingers were tangled up in his hair and I almost thought he was going to rip it out by the roots. He stumbled a little with every step he took.

"Martin!" I shouted. My voice was cracking with the strain and the fear. " _Martin!_ "

I caught up with him and tried to grab his shoulder. He shrugged away. I tried again and he spun on me, his eyes wild with grief.

"Enough, Mara!"

"No. Whatever you heard in there–"

His eyes lowered and he said in a hoarse whisper, "I heard enough. What am I? A bastard. No, not even that. I'm no more than a tool to restore the Empire. My father…" He shuddered and stopped, as if unable to go on. Then he shook his head and tried to turn away.

"Martin, look at me.  _Look at me!_ " I cried, hastily stepping around him to cut him off. "Your father was a farmer. He was an honest man who did everything he could to help you.  _He_ made you who you are, not Uriel Septim. Remember that. You have to remember that."

He glared at me and I glared right back. I'd shake sense into him if I had to. Then his defenses abruptly broke, his face falling and his shoulders sagging as if under a heavy weight. Stepping forward, he enveloped me in his shaking arms and held me close.

"I don't deserve you," he whispered into my ear. My stomach twisted. What Jauffre said repeated over and over in my mind. Martin's marriage to the Countess was already arranged and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Martin straightened and took a steadying breath. His face was serious, but his eyes were practically overflowing with emotion. He took my hands in his. I stiffened.

"I've thought about this for a long time," he said slowly. "I should have asked you before, and I'm sorry that I didn't. But now's better than never, I suppose."

He sunk down to his knees before me. My heart pounded so hard it hurt. I shook my head emphatically.

"Martin, I–"

"Mara Fides, will you marry me?" He asked me in a breathless voice.

My heart stopped and the world around me seemed to freeze. Slowly, I felt myself pull my hands from his grasp and take a step back, trying to keep some distance between us. His brow knitted together in concern.

"I  _can't_ ," I gasped.

"Why?"

"You deserve better than me," I told him with a helpless shrug. "I'm nothing but a thief, Martin."

He looked stunned. "You  _know_  I don't care about that!"

"Well I do!"

When he got to his feet, his hands reaching out to me imploringly, I took another step back. I couldn't let him touch me. Not if I didn't want to break. He had to understand. It was what I had to do. It was what was best for everyone. I clenched my hands into fists at my sides.

"You need someone with a title to rule beside you, Martin. That's not me. That will  _never_  be me."

"I–"

"Don't tell me you love me, and  _don't_ tell me that it doesn't matter! Love doesn't make a difference anymore! It's a weakness that you can't afford, Martin!" I shouted at him.

"You are not a weakness!" He shouted back.

I let out a broken laugh. "Am I not? Really? Your claim to the Ruby Throne is precarious enough as it is. How do you think everyone will react when you take your place with a criminal on your arm? I don't think they'll take it well."

"You're a hero!"

"I'm  _no one,_  and I won't be the one responsible for the downfall of this Empire. I'll leave, and you'll be able to marry Countess Carvain in peace. It's all planned. All I have to do is go."

Martin's eyes flashed back and forth as if searching for something before settling back on me. "You want me to just pretend like it never happened?"

" _Yes_. Say it was all an act. Say it was a dream. I don't care  _what_  you tell yourself, but you have to find something to let you live with her for the rest of your life."

He didn't respond at first. He just stared at me. In that moment, I finally saw what I'd done. The man before me was broken, utterly broken. He was the same as the man I'd first met in Kvatch: one without hope and with too much pain weighing down on his soul to bear. I didn't feel broken. I felt… hollow, like I'd ripped out my own heart. Tears that I refused to shed burned in my eyes. I wouldn't,  _couldn't_  break. I didn't think I could live with what I'd done if I let myself feel anything.

In a strained voice, Martin asked me, "If things were different, would you have said yes?"

If things were different. If he wasn't the Emperor and I wasn't a thief. If we weren't us and the world somehow made sense. If impossibilities were real.

I angrily wiped the tears from my eyes.

"If things were different," I told him in a shaking voice, "I would say yes every day for the rest of my life. But they're not.  _They're not_."

He came to stand before me and I was too tired to stop him. Cradling my face in his hands, he leaned his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes and felt my tears finally run down my cheeks.

"I'll marry her, if that's what you think is right," he told me. "But I will only ever love you, Mara Fides. My darling, my wonder."

Against my better judgment I whispered, "I'd have followed you anywhere, if I could."

"I know."

He tilted my face back and kissed me softly. Then he let me go and left me standing alone in the gathering dark. I opened my eyes slowly and felt teardrops fleck my cheeks as I blinked several times to clear them. I'd made the right choice. Now wasn't the time to have regrets.

I walked with slow steps back to the inn. Baurus was waiting for me, leaning against the doorframe with a grim look in his dark eyes.

"Mar, we need to talk."

"Everyone seems to tonight," I sighed.

He pulled me aside, into the shadows and away from any possible eavesdroppers and said, "The Grandmaster is going to discharge you from the Blades, did you know that?"

My heart twisted. "I thought he might."

"He was insistent that you leave in the morning, but I convinced him to let you stay for now."

I frowned. "How did you manage that?"

Baurus paused, as if unsure of something. With a grimace, he said, "You won't like it."

"Baurus," I snapped. "What did you  _do?_ "

"… I told him that I thought you might be pregnant."

My heart stuttered. It was all I could do to stay standing, gaping at the Blade before me.

"Not that I actually thought you were, of course. It was just to buy you some time…"

" _What have you done?_ " I gasped, putting my face in my hands. My fingertips trembled as they dug into my temples.

"Mar? Mar, what's wrong?"

"I can't have children."

"What do you mean?"

I lowered my hands to glare at him. "I mean I can't. It isn't  _possible_." When he didn't add anything, I let out a shaky breath and crossed my arms.

"As a teenager I was a thief in Balmora. That's Camonna Tong territory. The Dunmeri mob," I amended, seeing his confusion. "They were always out to kill us. When I was sixteen, some of them finally caught up to me. They stabbed me and left me in an alley to die. Luckily a couple of the members of my Guild found me before I could. They got me healed, but they couldn't fix everything. The blade had some kind of corrosive poison on it and the damage was… extensive."

I still had the scar on my stomach as a reminder, although compared to the many others I had it wasn't all that visible. If Martin had noticed it at all, he'd never mentioned it.

"Oh gods, Mar, I didn't…"

"It's not something I exactly like to share," I murmured.

"So what's going to happen now?"

I stared at him in disbelief. "Now? I'll see Martin to the Imperial City, and then I'm leaving. Jauffre's kicked me out. You said it yourself."

"But where will you go?" He asked.

"Why does it matter?"

He sighed, exasperated. "You're my best friend, Mar. I don't want to see you without anywhere to go."

"I'll make the best of it. I always have. This time's not any different."

"Yes it is, and you know it."

I was too exhausted to even glare at him. There were too many plans to make and too much to try to put behind me. I walked back into the inn, feeling numb to the core.

* * *

 

When we arrived at the Imperial Palace, a company of guards was waiting for us on the steps. There too was Pelagius, the Blade who'd been sent to speak to Ocato on Martin's behalf.

"Sire," he said. "Chancellor Ocato is expecting you."

Martin shot a glance in my direction. In the alternating darkness and torchlight, his expression was one of regret. We hadn't spoken in three days and we'd kept our distance from one another. I quickly looked away.

"Very well," he said, his voice grave. "Let's finish this."

The entire entourage was led into the palace and into the Council Chamber. Below the domed ceiling was a massive, circular table surrounded with chairs for the council members. Ocato jumped up from his seat at the table with a look of relief when he caught sight of us. He dropped to a low bow before Martin. My heart twisted painfully when I saw the look of shock in Martin's eyes.

"Martin Septim," the Chancellor began, "on behalf of the Elder Council, I accept your claim to the Imperial Throne. We should arrange the coronation ceremony as soon as–"

The doors to the Council Chamber burst open and a guard dressed in rent armor and covered in blood stumbled inside.

" _Chancellor Ocato! The city is under attack!_ "

My eyes widened. No. It couldn't be happening. It just  _couldn't._

"Oblivion Gates have opened and daedra are inside the walls!" He gasped. "The guard is overwhelmed!"

The Chancellor's expression was carefully blank, but his golden skin had gone very pale as he said, "Courage, soldier. We have an Emperor again." He turned back to Martin. "Your highness, what are your orders? Shall the Guard fall back to the Palace?"

There was a loud  _boom_ that shook the Palace walls. Everyone murmured nervously. I drew my sword, my eyes narrowed.

"No. If we let ourselves get besieged in the Palace we're doomed. We must get to the Temple of the One _immediately_."

Ocato nodded solemnly. "As you command, sire. Guards! Form up and protect the Emperor! To the Temple of the One!"

I stayed firmly by Martin's side and we marched out with the Guard. They'd have to kill me if they wanted to take him, and I wasn't going to go down quietly. I felt his gaze on me and I kept my own fixed resolutely ahead.

The moment we stepped outside the Palace we were overwhelmed. Daedra of all kinds swarmed towards us, tearing down anyone in their path. I stabbed a Dremora that got too close to Martin and kicked the body down the Palace steps. Most of us managed to cut our way through the horde. Baurus caught up with us and planted himself on Martin's other side.

"Where's the Grandmaster?" He shouted over the fight.

"I don't know! I–"

My gaze caught on Jauffre, who was cut off from the rest of us and dueling two flame atronachs. He sliced off one of the daedra's heads with a swing of his sword. There was an unearthly shriek, and the corpse exploded into an immense fireball that engulfed the Grandmaster. Just like that, he was gone.

More daedra attacked. I lost sight of Ocato and the other Blades in the descending throng. The three of us managed to kill or at least incapacitate any daedra that caught up with us as we ran for the gate to the Temple district. But there were too many coming at us, and they were catching up too quickly.

When Martin and I raced through the gateway, I realized that Baurus hadn't followed. I whirled around. He'd planted himself in the boundary between the districts, sword at the ready for the encroaching monsters.

"Baurus, don't!" I screamed.

He glanced over his shoulder at me. "You two have to go! Get to the Temple, light the Dragonfires! I'll hold them off for as long as I can!"

" _I'm not leaving you behind!_ "

"Mara!  _Mara!_ " Martin grabbed ahold of my arm and dragged me forward. "He's giving us a chance! We have to go!"

I shot one last look towards my friend and saw a Dremora stab him through the stomach. The wound  _had_ to be fatal, but still he kept fighting. Stifling a broken sob, I took Martin's hand and together we ran.

The Temple district had fewer daedra, but I could hear roaring in the distance. As long as they weren't blocking the entrance to the Temple of the One yet, we'd be fine.

We sprinted around the outside of the Temple, rounding its enormous walls. The entrance was so close. So close…

A flash of something gargantuan and blood red. The next thing I knew, I was being pushed back against the marble wall behind me.

"What–"

"We're too late. Mehrunes Dagon is here!" Martin gasped. I'd never seen him look so afraid. "Lighting the Dragonfires will no longer save us. The barriers that protected us from Oblivion are gone…"

There was a thunderous snarl and an earthshaking crash. Martin and I both winced.

"Can't we just cast him back into Oblivion?"

"I don't see how… mortal weapons may hurt him, but now that he is physically here in Tamriel, they have no power to actually destroy him."

"What about the Amulet?" I asked desperately.

Like a bright light, understanding dawned in his eyes. "Wait. Yes. The Amulet was given to mortals by Akatosh. It contains his divine power. But how to use this power against Dagon? The Amulet was not intended as a weapon…"

He trailed off, staring fixedly at some point in the distance. Then his gaze snapped back onto me. It almost seemed like he was seeing me for the first time. In that moment all of his fear melted away and was replaced by burning determination.

"I have an idea," he said. "One last hope. I must reach the Dragonfires in the Temple of the One."

"What's the plan?" I asked.

He tensed, looking away from me. "You'll just have to trust me. I now know what I was born to do. But I'll need your help. I have to get past Mehrunes Dagon somehow."

We had come so far. I wasn't about to give up.

"All right. I'll get you in there."

"Then I'll do the rest. Lead on."

I dove past him and cut through the approaching daedric horde. Right then, I was unstoppable. Baurus would  _not_  have died for nothing. Not while I still drew breath. But there was Dagon, towering above us like something out of a nightmare. His four arms crushed and rent everything he touched. He didn't notice as I skirted around one of his enormous legs.

Then he took a step. The ground bucked violently and I was thrown across the street. Everything went fuzzy and I tried desperately to catch my breath.

My daze only lasted for a moment before I forced myself to sit up. The Temple door was only feet away. Martin, however, was gone. I whipped my head around, searching wildly for him. My heart pounded. I finally found him, down and winded, and close enough to the Daedric Prince that if Dagon were to look down…

"Get up!" I screamed. "Come on, Martin!  _Get up!_ "

I scrambled to my feet, my boots sliding on the bloodstained cobbles, and ran toward him. He did the same. I don't know what kept him going. Probably the same as me: will, sheer will. We met each other halfway across the street. Grabbing his arm, I pulled him toward the temple door. I wrenched it open, ushered him inside, and slammed it shut behind us. But not before Dagon let out a deafening roar.

He'd seen us.

Martin instantly took me by the hand and led me to a corner. Before I could say a word, before I could ask him about his plan, he kissed me. It tasted bittersweet and, somehow, had a note of finality.

He lingered a moment at my mouth and whispered, "Whatever happens, know that I will always love you. Farewell, my darling. The Dragon waits." And, with that, he turned and ran toward the altar. I blinked slowly, trying to process what he'd said.

"Dragon?" The Amulet… Akatosh… the blood of kings… My eyes widened. "No, Martin! Wait!"

I took a step forward, reaching out to him across the distance. I had to stop him. I  _had_ to!

The roof ripped away with a horrible, grinding crash. The world shook beneath me and I fell to the floor. There was Dagon, huge and terrible, looming over Martin, who stood on the altar, alone. The Daedric Prince roared. I gasped and covered my ears to block the horrible sound. Martin raised his arm above his head, something ruby-red glinting in his hand. I saw him look back at me once, his eyes filled with grief, before he cast the Amulet of Kings down on the stones of the altar at his feet.

There was a flash of white light and the high, piercing sound of shattering crystal. An explosion tore the pillars from their foundations and cast them against the temple walls. I ducked, covering my head. When I looked up Martin was gone. In his place was a gargantuan dragon with scales of molten gold. My hands shook against the temple floor as I watched him roar at Dagon. The Daedric Prince slashed him across the chest with his axe. I screamed and my anguished cry was drowned out when Dragon-Martin grabbed Dagon by the neck with his teeth. There was the sound of bone crunching horribly against bone. Dagon stumbled back and the Dragon breathed a wave of fire down upon him so powerful that it ripped the Daedric Prince apart. There was a bright light and then he was no more.

The air was hot and still and smelled of burning. The only sound was that of the Dragon's –  _Martin's –_ heavy breathing. He was doubled over, his wings trailing against the ground. One was close enough that I could acutely feel its shimmering heat. I pulled myself toward him, across the temple floor, and stared up at him in disbelief. He was bent so far over, his face so close, that if I were to just stand up…

He looked at me then, looked at me with eyes that looked very blue and very  _human._

I reached out to him, my hand trembling.

" _Please,_ " I gasped.

He held my gaze for a moment that seemed to last an age. Then he reared up, stretching his golden wings into the crimson sky, and let out a roar so filled with grief and anguish that it felt as though my heart shattered into a thousand pieces. The golden fire coating his scales abruptly died and he froze, turning to nothing more than cold stone.

I shakily got to my feet and called his name. He couldn't be gone. He just couldn't. But the statue towering above the Temple, frozen in a final cry of pain, mocked me. I couldn't save him. Somehow I'd thought he would make it. That  _we'd_ make it. Somehow.

Time must have passed, because the next thing I knew Ocato stumbled into the Temple. It felt so strange to see him, bleeding but alive. I thought I had been the only survivor.

"What happened?" He gasped. "Where's Martin? I must congratulate him! Mehrunes Dagon is defeated! Cast back into Oblivion! We've  _won!_ "

"Martin's... gone." The words felt too flat. Too cold.

"What do you mean, "gone?" We saw the Temple dome explode, the avatar of Akatosh appear..." He stopped, realizing the awful truth. "… That was Martin?"

"He shattered the Amulet."

The Chancellor gazed up at the statue with reverence. "The joined blood of kings and gods. The Amulet of Kings. The divine power of Akatosh. The Gates to Oblivion are sealed, then. Sealed forever. Mehrunes Dagon and his ilk can never threaten Tamriel again. Martin is dead. But he died an Emperor, and a hero to rival Tiber Septim."

That wasn't enough. He shouldn't have died at all. He should have lived. He should have  _lived!_ I bit my lip to stop it from trembling.

"This victory is not without cost. We've lost Martin Septim. What an Emperor he might have made. His sacrifice was necessary, but it leaves the Empire without an Emperor. I don't know what happens now. There are troubled times ahead for the Empire. But now is not the time to worry about the future," he told me gently. "Let's just give thanks that we're alive."

How could I be thankful? I was supposed to die first, protecting him. That was what Baurus had done.

"I should have protected him," I gasped. "I should have done something!"

"There wasn't anything–"

"There was  _something!_ " I shrieked, clutching my head in my hands. "There's always something! There's always a way! I failed him! I  _failed!_ "

Everything in me was broken. Utterly shattered. Months of fighting, praying, doing everything I could to see him to his place on the throne. Loving him despite everything. Loving the man who knew who I was and thought I was worth something despite everything I'd done and been. If I hadn't told him no, would he have done this? Would that one choice have saved him in the end?

I hadn't told him I loved him.

Ocato put his hand on my shoulder, saying, "It's over."

Rain began to fall, pouring into the Temple and soaking us through. I blinked the droplets away, gazing up one last time at the cold statue that had once been a man. I'd never know the comfort I'd found in his embrace again.

I let Ocato walk me away.


	18. Requiem

"Mara, love, are you awake?"

"I am now," I murmured.

I felt Martin's arms tighten around me and his fingers slip between mine. He kissed my shoulder. I smiled, keeping my eyes closed and savoring the quiet moment. I wound the fingers of my free hand in his hair and he hummed softly against my neck.

Slowly, memories crawled back into my mind that made my smile falter. The city had been attacked. Baurus was dead. Dagon had been there, towering above everything, tearing the world around me apart. The amulet was shattered. And Martin…

I tensed.

"What is it?" He asked me, his voice concerned.

But how could it have been any more than a dream? He was there with me. I could feel his warmth beside me. It had felt so  _real,_ though.

"I dreamt that you…" I stopped myself. Tightening my hand around his, I buried my face deeper in his shoulder. "It doesn't matter. Everything's all right now."

"I love you, Mara." He kissed my cheek and his lips lingered against my skin.

"And I you," I whispered, opening my eyes.

Nothing.

I sat up, my blood turning to ice. I was alone, utterly alone, in the room. It was the inn; the one Ocato had set me up in after…

Cold tears welled up in my eyes. It hadn't been a dream. Martin was gone. He was gone, and he was  _never_ coming back. I lay back down, closing my eyes and wishing I was dreaming again. Anything to stopper up the dull, aching hole in my chest where he had once lived.

I twisted the covers in my hands and let the tears on my cheeks dry up. Crying wouldn't fix any of what had happened. Crying wouldn't bring him back to me. Nothing would, and I would have to learn to live with that. Martin would have wanted me to live, of that I was sure. So I would find a way. I had to.

Taking a deep breath, I shoved everything from my mind and got to my feet.

* * *

 

It took a week. Seven days, seven long days, were spent sorting out what they could of the city. Repairing the worst damages and burying the dead. They buried Martin last. Not literally, of course; there was nothing  _left_ of him to bury. Nothing but that cursed statue. But they held a funeral for him all the same. It took them a week to pull themselves together enough for that.

For seven days I hid. In the Waterfront, mostly, though it reminded me too much of my time in Balmora. I knew all too well the ways to hide in a big city. Ocato was looking for me, I was sure. There was nothing left to discuss. I would have left that first morning, but something held me there. Him. It had to be. His memory, at least.

For those seven days I felt  _nothing_. No pain, no sorrow, no grief. I didn't shed a single tear. I did what I always did: for that week, I survived.

The plan was to leave while everyone was distracted by the funeral. Some part of me knew that I should have been there in the ceremony. I was the Hero of Kvatch and it was the funeral of an Emperor. No, not just an Emperor. It was _Martin's_ funeral. Another part of me, a stronger part, knew that I had to leave. I had to get out while I still could. I was broken and barely holding myself together. Martin would have wanted me to be strong, and I couldn't be if I was there in front of all those people. He would have understood why I left, trying to hold my head high as I walked away.

The streets were shadowed and empty as I hastily made my way to the city gate. I tugged on my hood, ensuring it covered my face. I didn't stop walking until I was out of the city and on the Red Ring Road. It was then that, from across the water, I swore I heard a great, lamenting chant rise. I turned, breath catching, compelled to listen as if I had no will left of my own. It was the sound of the voices of a people facing uncertainty without a leader that I heard. The sound of an Empire, crumbling. And it was all because of me. I failed them.

I fell to my knees as all the grief that I'd been holding at bay rained down upon me. I cried out for Martin, reaching out like a child lost in the dark. Pain ripped through me like the cuts of a thousand daedric knives. Shadows consumed me. I couldn't think. I couldn't feel  _anything_  but the pain. It was like I was dying.

I gripped my head in my hands, as if I was trying to hold myself together. What was the point, anyway? What was the  _point?_  Without an heir to the throne the Empire would fall into ruin. And there was no heir. Not even the promise of one because Martin  _had_  to fall in love with a woman who had a violent past. Any final hope we might have had was lost with me.

Divines, there was no one left at all. Not Baurus. Not Jauffre. Not Martin. No one but me: Mara Fides, the Hero of Kvatch. I was no hero.

I was a  _lie_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this. I've had this written for a while and thought it was about time to post it here. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Comments and kudos are always greatly appreciated.


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